The Guessing Game
by Writer432
Summary: Annabeth Chase has a secret admirer who leaves a note in her locker everyday. It seems like a harmless surprise until the secret admirer reveals a twist, if she doesn't figure out who he is by Valentine's day, she loses The Guessing Game and will never know who sent her those mysterious notes. Rated T for minor swearing. AU
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson series. Or The Book Thief, Finding Nemo, and the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.**

I hate February with every bone in my body. Not only was it freezing, with the thought of Spring so depressingly far away, but it hosted the most useless holiday known to mankind: Valentine's day. Now, I'm not bitter about Valentine's day because I was single (even though I am single), or even because I have never kissed a guy. It's because I believe that if you truly love someone, you should show them everyday, not just once a year.

So as I trudged through the cold February air on my way to school, the only thought that could lessen my scowl was the thought that I would get to hang out with Percy that evening. It was February first, and on the first of each month we had a movie marathon until we both fell asleep. It was the only day of the month that I would pass up the hours of studying I usually did in the evening for relaxing on the couch, gorging myself with buttery popcorn and peanut butter M&M's. The next morning was usually greeted with a stomach ache and being bleary eyed through every class until I could pass out on my bed for a few hours, yet we still carried on with the tradition.

Frosty air nipped at my nose, dragging me out of my daydream, knocking me back into the cold reality of ice covered sidewalks. I slid for a few feet, my breath hitching in my throat as I almost collided with a grumpy looking man traveling the other direction.

"Sorry!" I called over my shoulder, but he was already out of earshot. I frowned slightly, but charged on through the biting wind. My scarf fought with the wind, whipping around my face with the chilly fabric periodically snapping against my frozen cheek. The scarf was the one Percy made for me when we were 8 for Christmas.

Speaking of Percy, where is he? We always met at the corner back there, the one where I slipped. I hope he isn't sick. Or late, he'll get a detention if he's late again. He probably got help on his math homework. We had given up on me tutoring him after an argument that ended with my bedside lamp shattered on the floor. I'll grill him about it later, I decided.

I shuffled forward, stomping my faded red converse on the concrete steps in front of my school. Pain spiked in my frozen toes, settling into irritating pins and needles. Nudging open the door with my shoulder a sticky heat washes over me, along with the noise of squeaking shoes and the dull throb of morning chatter. I drag my feet on the useless rug where your supposed to wipe your feet, scanning the crowd for a flash of raven black hair. No such luck.

I stumble to my locker, dodging all the backpacks and swinging limbs. I twist in the combination, tugging the monstrosity that is my scarf off my neck and hanging it on the hook where I usually put my jacket. I drop my overly stuffed backpack off my back, grunting slightly with effort as I hang it on a hook. I slip my coat off, shoving it on top of my scarf and glancing over my shoulder, searching for Percy once again. I frown, then turn back to my locker, unzipping my backpack and heft my giant Math textbook from the front pouch, cramming it into the shelf near the top of my locker. The sound of crinkling paper echoes around the metal, and I yank my textbook out, examining it to make sure it wasn't damaged. Once I see that it is fine I peer into the dark shelf, the pearly surface of an envelope shinning back at me. I set my Math book on the bottom of my locker, standing straight again and stare at the envelope.

What should I do with it? _Open it, obviously. _A voice says in my head. _But what if it was meant for someone else?_ _Then why would it be in your locker? Maybe they thought this was someone else's locker._I bite my lip, chewing on the soft flesh while deep in thought. _Fine, I'll open it._ I tear the corner of the envelope gently, flinching at the soft sound. Determination floods through me as I rip the rest of it off, shoving the curling white strip of paper deep in my pocket. With slightly trembling hands I lift the folded paper from the envelope, studying the haphazard folds. _You're thinking too much, just open the damn thing._ I sigh, blowing a curl out of my face and shifting my feet. Before I can change my mind I unfold the white printer paper, and am greeted with painstakingly neat handwriting.

_Dear Annabeth,  
Roses are red  
Violets are blue  
I'm not good with words  
And I really like you.  
-Your Secret Admirer_

I stare at the paper in shock, my jaw hanging down. _I have a secret admirer? Since when have I been deemed 'date worthy'? The last time a boy asked me out was in eighth grade_, _and that was a dare._ _And now I have a secret admirer?_ Then my cheeks start to heat up, blush clawing its way up my neck and covering every inch of my face. I feel like everyone's staring at me, but when I peek over my shoulder they're all still caught up in their morning gossip sessions. Sighing in relief I read the letter again. And again. And again. _Who could it be? _I squint at the too neat handwriting, trying to decipher whose it is. They obviously spent a lot of time on writing it, you can tell from how carefully formed the letters are.

"What'cha got there?" A voice says from behind me, and I jump, crumpling the letter in my fist. I turn to see Percy looking at me with a raised eyebrow. He's wearing jeans with a dark green t-shirt that complements his eyes nicely. His hair shaggy hair is swept to the side and I have to resist the urge flatten the bit that sticks up in the back. He stands with his hands in his pockets, slouching slightly and yet he is still a good four inches taller then me.

"Oh, it's you." I say, my heart pounding in my chest, and not just because he frightened me. I unclench my fist, smoothing out the wrinkled paper. "I found this in my locker." I say, handing the paper to him. He takes it, mouthing the words as he reads. His eyebrows crease in concentration, my hands itching to reach up and smooth it out. He smirks at the paper, and looks up at me.

"Wow, looks like somebody has a secret admirer." He teases, placing the paper in my hand.

"But who is it?" I ask, turning back to my locker and grabbing my Math textbook. I slip the paper beneath the cover, causing Percy to snicker.

"Geez, Annabeth, I guess you would have caught on. The whole point of a secret admirer, is that it is a _secret._" He leans on the locker next to mine, giving me a butterfly-inducing smile. I roll my eyes, slipping everything else I need out of my backpack and slamming my locker shut.

"Oh, really? I never would have guessed." I say sarcastically as we walk toward our homeroom.

"See there's your problem!" Percy exclaims, causing several heads to turn our way. "Anyway, are we still on for tonight?" He asks, holding the door open for me.

"Thanks, and of course. But it's my turn to pick the first movie." I add, setting my stuff on my desk. A couple people are already here, and a few more trickle in behind us.

"Oh, come on. I have a really good movie I want to show you!" He whines, dropping his textbook on his desk.

"You said that last month. And the month before. And the month before that! And every single time you had me watch Finding Nemo." I argue, fake glaring at him.

"It's a classic!" He defends. "Besides, you love that movie."

"Yeah, but it's still my turn. We can watch Finding Nemo second." I reason, opening my folder to grab our Math homework from last night.

"But it's not the same." Percy moans dramatically.

"Too bad." I say, glancing over at Percy. "Where's your Math homework?"

"I came in early to get help. That's why I wasn't at our corner this morning." He says, leaning on my desk. A few people burst out laughing from across the room, only to get shush by our grumpy Math teacher, who looks like the coffee hasn't set in yet.

"I thought so. You know, I wore that scarf you gave me when we were eight." I say, grinning over at Percy.

"Oh, Annabeth!" He groans. "That thing is hideous. Why did you wear it?"

"Because I couldn't find any other scarf and it's freezing outside." I shrug, enjoying Percy's horrified expression.

"So? Then get frostbite!" He shrieks, and our Math teacher, Mrs. Thompson, glares our way.

"Wow, I'm really feeling the love." I say sarcastically, opening my textbook. The poem flutters out swaying in the air until it lands on the cold tile. Percy picks it up, his eyebrows pinching together.

"What do you think of this whole secret admirer business?" He asks, still holding the paper. I shrug, trying to act nonchalant.

"I don't know. It's probably a joke." I say, grabbing a pen and checking over my homework. When Percy doesn't answer I glance up. He's standing there, his mouth open in shock and his eyes as big as quarters.

"You don't actually believe that, do you?" he asks, staring at me intently. I shrug again, going back to checking. "No, Annabeth, answer me." His voice is demanding, something I've never heard from him.

"I... yes?" I say, but it comes out as more of a question. Percy scoffs, setting the letter on the table, but keeping his hand over it.

"I'm disappointed in you, Annabeth." He says, locking his gaze on mine.

"You're disappointed, in me?" I manage to squeak out.

"You're selling yourself short. Any guy would be lucky to go out with you. Hell, half the guys here _do _want to go out with you." He says, a tinge of protectiveness in his voice.

"Then why haven't they asked me out?" I point out and Percy blushes slightly.

"Half the school thinks we're dating." He mutters. "Because they have nothing better to do then gossip, and we tend to spend a lot of time together."

"Of course we do, we're best friends." I say, trying not to flinch at my words. Best friends. That's all I'll ever be to Percy, his best friend. Is it greedy of me to want more? To want to be his girlfriend too? I don't think it is, but I won't ask. "And what about the other half?" I prod.

"They are scared of you." Percy grins, sitting in my chair. It's my turn to scoff.

"Really, scared of me? What's so scary about me?" I ask, pulling on his sleeve. He taps the corner of his eye.

"It's your eyes. They find them intimidating. And your brains. Annabeth, boys don't like it when a girl is smarter then them. They like to be the best in the relationship." Percy leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.

"I've noticed. Now get out of my seat, the bells gonna ring in a few minutes." I tug at his sleeve once more.

"You can do better then that, Annabeth." He laughs, settling back in the plastic chair.

"Fine, but remember you asked for it." I shrug and go to the back of the chair, lifting it off the ground. Or at least, that was the plan. Instead, the chair stayed glued to the ground and I just stood there, puffing while trying to lift the damn thing. Percy was laughing, so I socked him in the shoulder."Shut up, Jackson. Since when did you become so heavy?" I ask, hands on hips.

"Since when did you become so weak, Chase?" Percy mocks, smirking at me. I scowl and Percy stands up, throwing an arm over my shoulder. "Face it, Annie. After puberty, you have nothin' on me." I roll my eyes, he's the only one who can get away with calling me Annie.

"You wish, Jackson." I retort, using all my self control to not lean into him. He dramatically places his hand to his chest, the hand attached to the arm around me!

"Yes I do." He says, and I can feel the vibrations of him speaking against his chest, where my face just so happens to be smushed.

"Percy!" I cry. I manage to wedge my hands between us, pushing with all my might to get out of the trap I'm in. "Let me go!" I shove one more time, breaking free and stumbling back until I land in my seat with a thud.

The bell rings, a long and monotonous sound. Mrs. Thompson stands up sharply, her chair rolling backward until it hits the wall. Everyone stumbles to their seats, collapsing onto the hard blue plastic. Mrs. Thompson has a rule that if you aren't in your chair by 5 seconds after the bell rings, she counts you tardy.

"Good Morning, class." She says in her clipped tone.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Thompson." We all echo, our voices void of any emotion.

"Today, we will be reviewing polar graphing." She pulls a huge stack of worksheets out from under her desk, explaining what we are supposed to be doing.

Once she calls up a few students to pass out the papers, she does back to sulking at her desk. When the pink paper lands on my desk, I attack it with my pencil, deciphering all the problems in record speed. I'm two thirds of the way through the page when a folded scrap of notebook paper drops on my desk.

I glance up to see Chris, the boy who sits between Percy and I, watching me. He catches my eye and jerks his thumb over to Percy, who is giving me his best puppy dog eyes. I glance down at the note, unfolding it. '_HELP ME!_' it says in Percy's messy scrawl. I dart my eyes back up at him, mouthing 'which problem are you on?' He rolls his eyes, holding up his pointer finger. I sigh, the same curl from this morning falling into my eyes. I twist it around my finger, chewing on my lip as I think.

After a quick look in the direction of Mrs. Thompson, I pull a piece of loose notebook paper out of my folder, jotting down the instructions on polar graphing. I lean forward, kicking Chris's chair once. He pretends to stretch, palming the folded paper. He yawns, twisting so his hand hovers beside Percy's desk, where he drops the paper. Percy slips the paper beneath his foot, pretending to be concentrating on the assignment. He sets his pencil down, and it rolls off the desk. Reaching down to grab it, he slips the lined paper into his hand. Straightening up he let the note fall in his lap. After a couple minutes he unfolds it and reads it, sending a note back that says _'THANK YOU, WISE GIRL!_' I smile slightly at the nickname, then bury myself back into my work.

When I finish, I flip the paper over, and pull my book out. The Book Thief by Markus Zuask. I try to focus on the words, but my mind doesn't want to read, so I stick my bookmark back in to keep my page. I watch my classmates, some more focused on the work then others. Unconsciously my hands are playing with the note Percy sent. Glancing down at it, I smile.

My mind wanders a bit more before I get bored and reach for my book again, only to see the corner of the secret admirer note poking out from beneath the cover of my Math book. I slipped it out, trying my best to smooth the creases. I read, and reread the poem, examining the steady handwriting. It was hard to tell if it was a boy or a girl's, and if they were older of younger then me. I'm a Junior this year, with Senior year just around the corner. A secret admirer isn't part of my plan, yet here I am in Math class trying to solve who my secret admirer is instead of studying for my Scence test later this week. I groan inwardly, and fold the poem in half, tucking it near the back of my book_.__  
_

I tap my fingers impatiently, staring at the clock. Five minutes. Surely I could last five more minutes. But, my ADHD had other ideas. After getting five glares and a kick to the ankle for continuing with tapping my fingers, I folded my hands in my lap. I wince as I adjusted my foot. _That's gonna leave a bruise_, I think idly. Finally, after forever, the bell rang again in the same dreary tone. Everyone shot to their feet, stuffing papers away and chatting with friends. I walked over to Percy desk, waiting for him to finish putting his stuff away. Once he finishes he engulfs me in a hug, squeezing me briefly before pulling back. My heart races, and I'm pretty sure I'm blushing more then I care to admit.

"You are a life saver, Annabeth!" He shouts, leading me out the door. The roar of chatter in the hallway makes it difficult for me to hear Percy.

"Meet you at lunch. Save me a seat." I say, not waiting for his reply. He'll save me a seat, the one on his left. He always does.

I navigate through the crowd quickly, finding my locker and dropping off my books and grabbing my poster for English. Holding it close to my body so it doesn't get crushed, I find my way to my next class, taught by Mr. Jacobson. Percy's step-father also taught English but since he knew us outside of school we weren't allowed to be in his class, otherwise our grades could be based on his feelings toward us as a person, not to our work. Or at least, that was the principals explanation.

I made my way to the back of the classroom, taking my usual seat and placing my poster next to me. It was presentations day, we had been assigned to make a poster demonstrating which book we've read in our group. My group was Piper, Silena, Rachel, Katie, Jason, and Connor. We had been assigned to read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn . And, surprising enough, everyone had read it. We had met up over the last weekend at Rachel's house to complete the poster, and I had been in charge of it because I was least likely to lose it or mess it up.

I undid the rubber band around it, spreading it out on the desks that have been shoved together in clusters to form tables. The poster curled slightly at the edges from being rolled up overnight, but otherwise it was just as pristine as it was yesterday. I turned and snatched my book off from the floor, managing to squeeze in a few pages before Piper arrives and flops onto her chair, sighing dreamily.

"Isn't Jason great?" She asks, leaning her elbows on the table, careful to avoid the poster. I don't even glance up.

"Sure." I answer vaguely, turning the page.

"What'cha readin'?" She asks, leaning over to get a better look.

"The Book Thief." I say, closing the book once again. At this rate I'll never finish it.

"Can I read the back?" She asks and I hand the book to her. "Wow, this sounds depressing." She hands it back, but halfway over the makeshift table the poem slips out. Piper picks it up and has read it before I can even react. "A secret admirer?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I-It was in my locker this morning." I say, ripping it from her grasp.

"Of course." Piper grins.

"Piper." I warn, but it's too late. It's times like this I wish I never told her about my crush on Percy.

"Was Percy at your corner this morning?" She asks, her tone falsely casual.

"No, because he was getting help with math." I say, tucking my book away.

"That still gives him plenty of time to slip that in your locker." She points out, a satisfied expression on her face.

"Or, he went straight to math." I say, feeling butterflies take flight in my stomach. Did I want my secret admirer to be Percy? Hell yeah. Was it Percy? Probably not. And that's what sucks about being best friends, you're so far in the friendzone that you have no hope of getting out.

"Why are you fighting me on this?" Piper asks, her lips pressed in a thin line. I shrug, chewing the inside of my lip.

"I just don't want to get my hopes up for nothing." I mutter, embarrassed. Piper lays a sympathetic hand on my arm.

"Annabeth, you don't see how he looks at you." Piper says gently.

"How exactly does he look at me?" I question, feeling my face heat up from the blush creeping up my neck. I seem to be blushing a lot today.

"Like you're the only thing that matters in this world." She states. _What is taking everyone so long to get here?_

Just as I think that, Silena comes rushing in, straightening her shirt and smoothing back her hair.

"How do I look?" She asks, a worried look pinching her pretty face.

"Like you just had a make-out session with Beckendorf." Piper teases, and Silena rolls her eyes.

"Thanks, sis." She says, slumping into the seat next to me. Piper and Silena are step-sisters, and get along surprisingly well. "So what were ya talkin' 'bout before I showed up?" Silena yawns.

"That Percy's in love with Annabeth." Piper says.

"Oh, he is head over heels for her." Silena nods, checking her nails.

"Guys!" I groan, burying my head in my hands. Silena giggles, poking me in the side.

"Hey, Annie, are you embarrassed?" She giggles some more. I don't even snap at her for calling me Annie.

"Why is Annabeth the color of a strawberry?" Comes the voice of Rachel. I peek through my fingers to see the rest of our group standing over us.

Piper opens her mouth to speak when the bell cuts her off. _Finally! Where was it when I needed it earlier?_ I straighten my posture, uncovering my face and smiling smugly at Piper.

"This conversation isn't over." She hisses when Mr. Jacobson is distracted by marking people present. I grin wider at her in response.

**~~~(line break)~~~**

Our presentation went off without a hitch, and in gym I scored a goal in soccer. My stomach growls as I head toward the cafeteria, brown lunch bag in hand. The volume in the cafeteria is triple that of the halls, and twice as packed. There are three lunch periods, and I'm in the first one. I weave my way to the tables, ploping down next to Percy.

"Hey." I say, handing him half my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Hi." He answers, his reply muffled my the food in his mouth. He slides over my half of his turkey sandwich, taking a large swig of milk. He passes over the carton, and I take a small sip.

"How was your morning?" I ask, tossing my granola bar to Hazel, a small African American girl who is a Freashman, and she gives me her apple.

"It was okay." Percy shrugs. "Gotta C on my biology test and in shop we started our designs. Yours?" He stuffs what's left of his half of the turkey sandwich in his mouth. Honestly, it's a miracle he doesn't choke.

"Our presentation in English went perfectly, and I scored a goal in gym." I swap my Fritos for Frank's cookie. Frank is a bulky Sophmore, with buzzing black hair and a Chinese heritage. He moved here a few months ago from Canada, and he happens to be dating Hazel. Breaking the cookie in half, I give part of it to Percy. It's chocolate chip, his favorite.

"Thanks!" He shouts, spraying bits of food onto the table.

"Ugh, gross!" I recoil, and Percy wipes away the debris. He pulls out a fruit rollup, and sets it in front of me.

"For the cookie." He says, his eyes locking on mine. "Don't trade it." I nod, and Thalia drops into the chair on his right. Thalia is a senior this year, with choppy black hair and her signature leather jacket. She has so many piercings I have long since given up on keeping track. She also had a nasty knack for swearing.

"I swear if those fuckin' lunch ladies give me any more shit about my piercings I'm gonna break their noses." Thalia mutters and I interrupt.

"Thalia! Stop swearing." I say sharply, jerking my head towards Hazel whose shifting uncomfortably and fanning her pink tinged face with her hand.

"Oh, sorry Hazel. Didn't see you." Thalia takes a huge bite of the greasy pizza that's for lunch today, swatting Percy's hand away when he reaches for her cookie. "That's mine!"

"But I'm your cousin!" Percy whines, reaching for the cookie once again. Again Thalia hits his hand away.

"What do you have to trade?" She asks, taking another bite of pizza.

Percy frantically dumps his lunch onto the table, spreading the contents out.

"A bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, an apple, and some carrots." He scrunched his nose up at the options. Thalia shakes her head no.

"Perce, you'll live without another cookie." I say, opening the fruit rollup. My mind drifts back to English and how Piper suggested that Percy put the note in my locker. I gnaw on the sticky goodness for a minute before I cave. "Percy?"

"Mhm?" He hums, biting off a large chunk of his apple.

"Piper thinks that you are the one who put the poem in my locker. Is that true?" Percy chokes on his apple, his face turning red. He coughs, trying to dislodge it from his windpipe. Thalia pounds him on the back, and he leans over the table. The apple flies out of his mouth, sliding across the table and stopping right before Hazel.

"Water." Percy gasps. He staggers to his feet, stumbling over to the water fountain in the corner.

"Was that a no?" I ask in a small voice. Thalia glared at her half eaten pizza, clenching her fists under the table.

"He's an idiot, Annabeth. You know that, right? A fucking idiot." Thalia reassured me.

"I know he isn't the brightest, but he comes around." I say, squirming in my seat.

"No, Annabeth..." Her piercing clad face looks determined. "Percy doesn't know how to express emotions to people without being stupid about it." Something about the comment rubbed me the wrong way, and I snapped.

"I don't need you to tell me my best friend isn't into me, okay? I got that from how he choked to get out of answering my question." I stand up, seathing. Gathering my belongings I march over to the garbage can and dump my uneaten food into it. I storm out of the cafeteria and into the nearest bathroom, slamming the stall door behind me. I sink to the ground, not caring that this is a public restroom, and the tears start to slip out, one following the other until it's just a constant stream.

I don't even flinch when the bell for my next class rings, or for the one after that. All I can think about is that I'm the biggest idiot on the planet for falling for my best friend.

**Hi! I know this has nothing to do with guessing, or a game, but that's why this is called the prologue. And the poem was horrible on purpose, so no complaining. It was originally going to be one of those super long oneshots with about 10,000 words, but I hit over 5,000 and couldn't bring myself to shorten what I had written anymore then I already had, thus a story. **

**Care to tell me what you think so far?**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series**. **Or Frozen, Ben & Jerry's, and The Book Thief.**

After bawling my eyes out on the bathroom floor I pack all my things away, making the three block trip back to my dad's apartment. Percy scarf was scrunched in a ball, shoved to the very bottom of my bag. Thankfully no one was home when I arrived, so I slung my bag off my shoulder and threw it in the corner of the entry way. After my arrival, I spent the rest of the day locked in my bedroom, shouting at my dad to leave me alone, and wallowing in a pit of self pity. My pale yellow comforter was tucked around my shoulders and I must have gone through three boxes of Kleenex, from the way my trash was overflowing. I fell asleep, tears drying on my cheeks and eyes puffy. I know, I'm pathetic. But let's see you get your heart smashed into a trillion pieces and see how you cope.

When I woke up I scrambled to get ready, skipping breakfast and bounding down the hall to get my backpack. Snatching my coat off the floor, I managed to call a goodbye to my dad before slipping on my Converse and dashing out the door. This resulted in me almost landing face first into the snow that was just outside our apartment complex. Regaining my balance at the last possible second I speed walk toward school. _Maybe if I get there fast enough Percy won't see me_. I readjust the straps of my backpack nervously, watching where my feet land so I don't slip. _What on earth is in my backpack that is so heavy?_

"Shit." I curse, getting a disapproving look from a business women walking by, who is wearing the tallest pair of high heels I have ever laid eyes on.

I forgot to do my homework. Now, that may not seem like a big deal to you, but to me it meant my world was ending. I grit my teeth to keep a few more choice words in, taking deep breaths to calm myself down. _Okay, think Annabeth. You had no math homework, and all you had for English was to grade yourself in how you preformed in your group project. Easy enough_. I start to calm down when a sick feeling crawls into my gut. I didn't go to my last four classes yesterday. Panic seizes my mind, and I enter school as I reach the conclusion that I should just fess up and admit I was too upset to go to class when a hand clasps on to my upper arm.

I jump back in alarm, ready to elbow whoever is grabbing me when I see a familiar leather jacket out of the corner of my eye. My stiff posture relaxes and the stern face of Thalia greets me when I turn around.

"You scared me." I gasp, placing a hand on my chest. Thalia doesn't seem amused, but then again she isn't the easily amused type of person.

"I covered for you yesterday. As far as anyone knows you went home from a bad turkey sandwich." It's as close as an apology I'm going to get from her. Relief floods through me, melting away the dread I felt seconds ago. Thalia squeezes my arm with her nails briefly before disappearing into the crowded school hallway. I stand there for a second, slightly in shock, until someone bumps into me, effectively knocking me out of my stupor.

I stumble over to my locker, putting my combination in wrong three times before I pop my locker open. Glancing in the top shelf I see an envelope identical to the one that was there yesterday. I slip my million pound backpack onto a hook, and drop my jacket in a heap on the bottom of my locker. No scratchy scarf today. My heart pounds as I eagerly rip open the envelope, finding a piece of paper folded in the same fashion it was yesterday. Crumbling the tattered envelope and throwing it into the recycling across the hall, I return to my locker. Unfolding the paper carefully I hold my breath, not knowing what to expect.

_Dear Annabeth,_

_I heard you asking about the poem yesterday. You want to know who I am. So, let's_ _play a game. If you can guess who I am by Valentine's Day, you win. If you don't, these notes stop and you'll never know who I am. I'll give you a clue everyday, each a little more specific then the last. Since I didn't give you a clue yesterday, I'll give you two today. I'm a Junior and a boy._

_-Your Secret Admirer_

I frown at the note, reading it again and again. The letter is in the same perfect handwriting, without a dot of ink out of place. It's written in black ink, strongly contrasting with the impossibly white paper. Irritation flares up inside me, but is gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Hey!" Percy's voice says behind me, causing me to squeak in fright. I turn to him angrily.

"You need to stop doing that!" I shout, my anger dispersing as soon as I see the worried look on his face. "What's the matter?" I ask.

"Thalia said you went home from a bad turkey sandwich. I'm really sorry, I had no idea it was bad. My mom feels really horrible too, so she sent you some 'please forgive me' cookies." Percy grins, holding out a small plastic bag with one cookie left in it. One blue, chocolate chip cookie. Guilt engulfs me, _Percy actually thinks that his sandwich got me sick, and Sally felt so bad she baked me cookies._I avoid Percy gaze, instead locking my eyes on the almost empty bag inches from my nose.

"Cookies, huh?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Percy blushes slightly, shuffling his feet.

"I got hungry on the way to school." He mutters, and I roll my eyes.  
"Enough about me. Is that another letter in your hand?" He points to the white paper peeking out between my fingers. I hand it over, then duck in my locker, scavenging for a pencil. When I resurface Percy has finished reading the note and is eyeing the cookie.

"I'll take those." I pluck the baggy and note from his hands, tucking the cookie in the darkest corner of the shelf in my locker and sticking the note deep in The Book Thief, which I was too busy sobbing my eyes out to read last night. I tug my math textbook out of my bag, nearly falling on my butt when it finally gives. Percy hands hold my waist as I clumsily bump into him, steadying us both.

"Be careful, Wise Girl." He whispers in my ear and I jump away from him, stammering an apology. He chuckles, dropping his hands into his pockets.

I quickly manage to grab all my supplies for math, and head toward class before I embarrass myself farther. Percy follows me like a loyal dog, humming off-key. The tune quickly becomes the bane of my existence, and I slam my things onto the tan wood of my desk. I'm not sure if his humming is the only thing bothering me, though. Mrs. Thompson gives me her signature glare, her newly manicured nails still typing on her keyboard.

"Percy, you read what he wrote, right?" I ask, my tone of voice taking on an irritated edge. Percy looks up from where he is frantically finishing his homework.

"Who?" He tilts his head to the side. His brilliant green eyes flash with confusion, causing butterflies to take off in my stomach. _Damn_ him, I curse silently. _Does he really have no idea how he affects me? I mean, usually I associate confusion with stupidity, but he makes it work. In the seemingly innocent way his brow creases, and how he tilts his head to the side, it's just so attractive it makes me want to scream._

"The Secret Admirer. He said we're playing a game. A game!" I throw myself into Percy's chair, scowling at the wall and crossing my arms. Partly because I am pissed at the secret admirer, and partly because I don't want to look at Percy or else I might jump him right here.

"I thought you liked games." Percy frowns slightly.

"I do, it's just... Love isn't a game, Percy." I finally pinpoint what was bugging me so much, like an itch I could finally reach. I unfold my arms, clasping my hands in my lap. Percy makes a noise of agreement from above me, then starts attacking his homework once again. "I don't understand why you didn't just do that at home. It takes five minutes." I lean my elbows into his desk, examining his work. "Number seven's wrong."

Percy groans, erasing all his work with the the pink sliver of his eraser that he has left. He rests his head against the paper, a sign that he has given up.

"We can't all be geniuses, Annabeth." He mumbles. He lifts his head like it weighs a thousand pounds, and rubs his forehead. The way his mouth creases at the corners is achingly familiar, it's what happens whenever he's thinking about something particularly hard.

"Percy, did it ever occur to you that Thalia was lying?" I blurt, regretting the words as soon as they tumble from my mouth. Percy frowns at his desk, like the words are sitting there, ready to be examined by his watchful eye.

"It did seem odd to me that you got sick and I didn't." Percy words are chosen carefully, you can tell from the slow way he speaks, each word fully formed before being spoken.

I nod, the guilt slowly taking control of me, twisting my gut. He knows Thalia covered for me, and he knows I know. And yet... he doesn't ask any questions as to why I skipped class and had his older cousin spread a lie of why I'm not at school instead of him. I can see he's dying to ask it, his body language is screaming that he feels betrayal at the very least.

"You're my best friend Percy. But there are somethings you can't tell even your best friend, no matter how tempting." And with those wise words, I stand up jerkily from his seat, like I'm a puppet on strings, and make my way to my desk two rows back. I can feel Percy's eyes boring into the back of my head, dying to ask what is so important that I keep from him. And someday I might be able to tell him.

**~~~~(line break)~~~~**

After the singularly most uneventful math class I have ever taken part of, I remembered that I still had homework the finish. Cursing under my breath I became the obnoxious ass who all but shoves people out of the way.

Reaching my locker in record speed, I spin my combination and yank all my supplies out for English, shoving my math ones in unceremoniously. While weaving through the crowd to my English classroom, I start in a new direction of cursing involving boys, hormones, and anything to do with the word love, and more specifically questioning the pretenses in which they were conceived. After bitterly making my way through the throng of the slowest walking people that have ever existed, I collapse on the solid blue plastic of my chair. Taking no time to rest I whip out the yellow sheet depicting what our task for homework was. I fill in the blanks with half-formed answers, praying to every religion that it won't influence my grade.

Piper slips into her usual seat across from me, her mouth already open from a comment she was about to make when she sees the degree of brutality I'm filling my paper out with. She snaps her jaw shut with an audible clack as her teeth bang together, waiting for me to finish. It doesn't take long, I had finished a large proportion of it before her approach.

Sitting back once I've completed the task, I perceive that my hand is throbbing from how hard I grasped the pencil in my thin fingers. Muttering more profanity I try to rub some feeling into my numb digits. Piper watches me with an amused expression, barely repressing giggles.

"You have one dirty mouth there, Annabeth." Piper taunts.

"Wha'do ya mean?" I ask, still too pissed to articulate my words properly.

"You said, and I quote, 'I'm going to fuck up whichever bastard invented hormones, so help me God'. That was the closest you got to being rated G." Piper collapses into a fit of laughter as Katie, Rachel, and Silena arrive.

"Why is Piper laughing like she's finally lost it?" Rachel asks, her frizzy red locks spilling over her shoulder when she tilts her head just like Percy. They almost went out once, but surprised us all by flirting one day then claiming the other was like a very annoying sibling to them the next. It's not like I minded.

Piper explains through gasped breaths, the others listening with mixed reactions. Katie looked shocked, her petite jaw dangling wide open and eyes the size of marbles. Rachel was as amused as Piper, who kept repeating a few more of the things I allegedly vocalized while finishing my homework. Silena just tsked, and went straight to filing her nails.

"That's no way for a lady to talk, Annabeth." She reprimanded, holding her hand out in front of her so she could examine the long pink death traps she calls nails.

"Good thing I'm not a lady then." I mumble, shrugging one shoulder. Piper and Rachel heard, and they start shrieking in laughter once again. You wouldn't think Silena and I would get along as well as we do, with our personalities being polar opposites. But for some reason we get along exceedingly well.

"You are gold, Annabeth!" Piper manages before dissolving into laughter. A smile curls at the edge of my lips before my bad mood flattens it into a frown again.

"Thanks." I mutter, emphasizing the last syllable. Jason and Connor stroll into the class room, discussing something animatedly.

"No, you have it all wrong, Stoll. Superman- why does my girlfriend look like she's choking?" Jason asks, his eyes troubled. He walks quickly until he is behind her, reaching out to touch her shaking shoulder gently.

"Because Annabeth has the dirtiest mouth in the whole school." Silena says in a bored tone, holding her hand inches away from Connor's eyes. "Do these look crooked to you?"

"I-um uh." Connor stutters dumbly, his eyed crossed.

"Right, you're not into this stuff. I don't know why I asked you." Silena shakes her head, filing away at her nails yet again.

"Care to elaborate?" Jason says, his fingers entwined with Piper's. She gives him an in depth report on what I apparently said, none of which I remember. Connor loses it about a third of the way through, his laughs becoming background music to the story. Jason doesn't seem as easily thrilled. "I had no idea Annabeth had such an extensive vocabulary when it came to these, uh, things." He says stiffly.

"I am so gonna tell Travis this!" Connor exclaims, wiping away the tears that have formed in the corner of his eyes.

"No, you're not! Because then Travis is going to tell Percy, whose going to ask me why I'm cursing hormones and boys, which means I'll have to explain why I didn't do last night's homework until two minutes ago, which means I'll have to tell him I haveacrushonhim!" My voice steadily grows louder and louder, my words rushing after each other until there's no spaces between them. The entire room is watching me now, all staring at me in a stunned silence. I stand there, red faced and puffing for breath, a sick feeling curling in my gut. I want to run out of the door and never look back, but my feet are rooted to the floor in fear. The bell rings in the same flat tone it always does, except this time it seems overpoweringly loud because it has no morning chatter to be heard over. I slump into my seat, burying my head in my hands. _ Why me? What did I do to deserve this degree of humiliation?_

"Except, Connors not going to tell Travis. No one in this room will speak of it again. Right?" Silena looks around the room with a severe expression and everyone nods. Silena can be scary when she wants to, and right now she looked deadly. "And if anyone does, they will have to answer back to me." Silena diverts her attention back to her glossy pink nails. After a few more minutes of stunned silence, Silena glances once again. "Mr. Jacobson, the bell rang."

"R-right. S-so today class we are going to, uh, watch a video." Mr. Jacobson jumps up from his seat, fumbling with the projector. Once he got it on he quickly walked to his computer, dropping the disc when it was in the case, and then dropping it when it was about to be put in his computer.

"I think you scared him, Sil." Piper smiles.

"Of course I did." Silena grins wickedly at us. "Who don't I scare."

"Thanks, Silena." I whisper, peeking through my fingers at her.

"I didn't just threaten everyone so you could hide behind your fingers all day." Silena gently pried my fingers off my face, setting them on the table. "There, now sit up tall and show some of that Annabeth pride I've come to know and love."

I sit up a little straighter, contemplating if I could get away with hiding behind my hands after the film starts and the lights are dim. Silena must be able to read minds, because she casually throws her arm over mine so that if I move them in the slightest she'll know. Sighing dramatically I wait patiently for our teacher, still shoken up from Silena's outburst, to start the movie.

Eventually Mr. Jacobson manages to get the movie started, his hands shaking slightly as he presses play on the dark remote. After a big project in Mr. Jacobson's class we always watch a movie the next day to 'unwind and relax'. Mostly, though, people ignore film and talk to their hearts content. Sometimes the movies are silly, we may be high schoolers but we love us some Disney, and others times they're serious, it usually depends on what mood we are in. I personally enjoy the serious movies more. Who wants to watch a bunch of actors prance around making fools of themselves when our can see them show you raw emotion and make you _feel something_. Percy disagrees, he thinks that the light hearted giddiness you get when watching a comedy is feeling something, but the emotion passes too quickly for me to identify as really feeling. You should be able to connect the knot of dread in your stomach or have tears appear in your eyes when you think about a film, _that's_ what I call feeling something.

Five minutes into the movie, which is Frozen, Piper turns toward me with a bored expression taking over her face.

"Did you get any more love letters from that not-so-secret admirer?" Piper raises a perfect eyebrow, a playful smile starting to form on her pale pink lips. I glance at Silena, who removes her arm begrudgingly. I grope for my book in the dim light, my hand searching for the paperback masterpiece. I find it halfway under my chair, the back few pages bent at an awkward angle. I smooth down the back cover, a frown enhancing my already serious appearance. Sliding the folded note out of my book I drop it onto Piper's desk. She unfolds it meticulously, holding it inches above her section of our 'table' so Mr. Jacobson wouldn't spot it. Leaning forward with squinting eyes she reads note, her careless smile drooping until it was a frown.

"He thinks this is a game!" She hisses sharply. I nod miserably. "Oh, I am going to knock some sense into that black haired best friend of yours." She whispers fiercely, her jaw locking into a determined stance.

"Piper, it's not Percy!" I whisper as loud a I dare.

"I thought we agreed you'd stop fighting me on this." Piper said in a normal voice, getting ambushed by shushes from the front of the class who seemed to be eating the movie up. Piper ignored them, instead choosing to stare at my intensely with her ever-changing eyes.

"We didn't and do you want to know how I know it isn't Percy?" I glance around to make sure no one else was listening. If they were, at least they had the decency to pretend to watch the movie. "I asked. I asked him if it was him and he choked on his apple rather then tell me it wasn't." I lean back my chair, feeling defeated.

"Maybe he was just so shocked you figured it out so fast." Piper says feebly.

"Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Piper, but I've come to terms with it." I fake a smile, and from her unconvinced expression I know it most likely looks more like a grimace. "It's fine, really." I assure her.

"I'm coming over tonight with five tubs of Ben & Jerry's." Piper raises her voice slightly, indicating that the others at our table should listen. "Rachel will be in charge of the chick flicks, and Katie is bringing the darts. Silena will handle the tissues. Right ladies?"

Silena shrugged, muttering about having nothing else to do while Rachel and Katie 's confused faces compel Piper to explain the 'situation' and how we are going to 'fix my broken heart'. Sometimes I feel like Piper is more invested in my relationship, or lack of, with Percy than me.

"Pipes, I hate to rain on your parade, but Percy and I were never dating and I don't think my dad wants four teenage girls to randomly show up at his door."

"Leave that to me." She grins cheekily, and I know she has her mind set. And once Piper is determined about something, you can't sway her.

"Fine, but if my dad says no, it's on you." I give in, and Piper claps her hands together like an excited three year old.

"Yay! Then it's settled. We'll be there at 4:30."

"Uh, guys." Katie interrupts, her soft voice carrying over to us. She's wringing her wrists,something she only does when she's unsure of something. "Where do I get darts?"

**~~~~(Line break)~~~~**

It took the rest of the class period for me to convince Piper that there was no need for a dartboard. She was convinced with every bone in her skinny body that throwing darts at a smiling picture of Percy would 'ease the pain', her words not mine. Eventually I convinced her to veto the pastime when she got it through her thick skull that I was bent on a nonviolent post-breakup session that I didn't even want in the first place. I even tried to explain it to her that Percy and I were never even dating, but she was having none of it.

"He broke your heart, and that is just as bad as breaking up with you." She stated, denying every flaw I found in her plan.

So that's how my quiet evening plans turned into a full out movie marathon with enough ice cream to last me a lifetime. My dad had agreed to have them over, but only under the terms that I finish my homework before they came and they were out of the house by 10. I just barely finish my Latin homework for Mr. Brunner's class when there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" I call to nobody particular. I peer through the peephole to see a slightly disoriented scene of four teenage girls loitering outside the door. I undo the deadbolt and swing the door open, grinning broadly at them. "Hey guys, come on in. Take your shoes off in the entry way." I close the door behind Katie, locking it again. They kick there shoes off standing somewhat uncomfortably in the hall. My dad peeks around the corner, his aviator goggles still strapped over his eyes. The girls all take a step back in surprise, shock smothering their awkwardness.

"Hi you must be Annabeth's friends." His full body appears and he smiles kindly at our guests.

"Dad, your goggles." I laugh as he looks at me in bewilderment, then catches sight of himself in the mirror next to the coat rack. He jumps a little then fumbles with them until they detach and are in a bundle in his palm.

"Sorry about that. I get so used to having them on from wearing them all the time. If I didn't have Annabeth or Helen, I'd probably sleep with them on." My dad laughs at his own joke, oblivious to the four uneasy teenage girls and one exasperated daughter he was holding hostage in the dim hallway.

"That's great Dad, but, uh, we have ice cream to eat." I brush past him and beckon for the others to follow. They shuffle past him, each sending their best version of a smile his way.

"Remember, you only have until 10! And I don't want any bugs coming in, so try not to make a mess!" He calls after us, craning his neck.

"We'll be careful Dad!" I shout back, ushering the others into my room. They all collapse onto the bed like standing was using every ounce of energy they had left. I stretch out on the floor, propping my head up with my hand. "So, did you guys bring the stuff?"

Silena rolled her eyes, holding out the plastic bags they brought._ I must have missed them earlier through all that tension in the hall_, I think absentmindedly.

"You guys sure were chatty back there." I tease them, causing Piper to throw my pillow at me. "Why thank you, the ground isn't quite as comfortable as it used to be." I cram the squishy cushion under my aching elbows. "So, what movies did you bring, Rachel?"

"I brought every chick flick we own. From The Notebook to the Maid in Manhattan." Rachel glanced up from the bag she was searching through a distasteful look on her face. I wrinkle my nose, I am in no mood to watch a movie that leaves you gasping for air or in tears. I'm not in the mood for a movie, period.

"Let's skip the movies and go straight for the ice cream." I suggest, and they all chime in their approval. Piper clutches the handle of her plastic bag as she makes her way over too my desk. She takes out each carton one by one and lines them up, designating each a spoon.

"Annabeth gets to pick first since it's her broken heart we're mending." She gestures for me to go on and pick .

"For the last time, my heart isn't broken!" I groan, fed up with her maddening behavior. Piper challenges me by catching my eye then signaling for me to look at my overflowing trash can, which I forgot to empty. Shit.

"The Book Thief is really sad." I lie and Piper shakes her head in a condescending manner.

"Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth. Do you think I was born yesterday? I can tell when someone has been crying themselves to sleep, so nothing gets past me on this subject." She smiles, a teasing glint sparkling in her eye. "Now pick your ice cream before they melt into puddles."

I examine my choices. There are two Chocolates, one Vanilla, one Cookie Dough, and one Rocky Road. I frown and regard Piper, trying to swallow my disappointment.

"No strawberry?" I ask innocently and she scrunches up her face.

"Annabeth, you have the most bland palette out of everyone I have ever met. I know Strawberry is your favorite, but no, they didn't have strawberry." She gives me a sympathetic smile, letting me know she tried her best.

"Oh, then I'll take Cookie Dough." I grab the pint, the intense cold numbing my fingers slightly. I take a seat on my pillow, leaning gratefully against the wall.

"Knew it!" Piper laughs, tossing the others their ice cream. She drops into my office chair, spinning herself lightly with her toe. I twist off the cap, filling my mouth with the creamy treat. "So, I'm just gonna go right into what we are all thinking. How do you plan to deal with this Secret Admirer?" They all lean forward slightly intrigued by what my response might be.

"I'm ea'hing." I tilt by head back, gesturing to the goopy food swimming in my mouth.

"When you're done then." Rachel scrapes some Chocolate ice cream onto her spoon, smirking slightly when she sees my pleading expression. "Annabeth, can we see your notes?"

I set my ice cream on the ground next to me, clambering my feet. Making my way down the hall to the dining room where my school bag lays, I catch sight of my dad paying bills, frown lines creasing on his forehead. Slipping past as silently as I can manage, I gather my school supplies and trot back down the hall to my room. Recovering my book from the bottom of my bag, I catch a glimpse of a grey blob. The scarf. Shutting my backpack quickly I remove the notes, handing them to Rachel. Sitting back in my spot, I fiddle with my spoon nervously as they read them, probably memorizing them too.. Once they have effectively been passed around all eyes turn to me.

"Like I said before, how are you going to deal with this secret admirer? Or, more specifically, this 'game' of his?" Piper inserts sarcastic quotation marks around game, isn't thrilled with this guy's approach to woo me. I make eye contact with all of them, then direct my gaze at the lump near my door that serves as my backpack, with the scarf buried deep inside it. The memory flashes behind my eyelids every time I blink, getting increasingly more painful and humiliating. Once I decide, there's no turning back. I roll the idea around in my mind, trying to think about every situation that could take place if I agree, then what could happen if I disagree. Slowly the decision comes into my mind, taking its own sweet time formulating. Taking a deep breath I get ready to voice my choice to my friends.

"I'm going to win." I state simply.

**Chapter two complete! Thank you so much to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed! I almost had a heart attack when I saw how many I had! It never crossed my mind that this would be as popular as it is! **

**Please spare a few seconds and tell me what you think in a review! **


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series. Or Ben & Jerry's, and Drake and Josh.  
**

"Perfect." Piper grins, her bleach white teeth slightly blinding. She hops up from my office chair, her ice cream forgotten on my desk, and makes her way to the bookshelf taking over the left wall of my room. She stands before it, her fingers skimming over the biding.

"What'cha lookin' for, Pipes?" I ask, getting up to help her. She turns to me, a maniac smile on her face and a glint in her eye.

"Where do you keep your yearbooks?" She questions, watching me disappear in my closet, only to reappear seconds later, a stack of slippery yearbooks balanced in my arms. She removes the top four, examining the covers while I deposit them on the corner on my desk.

"Why do you need my yearbooks?" I inquire, but Piper waves me off.

"Just a second." She mutters, her eyes glued to the reflective covers. Sighing in defeat she sets the four she grabbed on my bed, inhaling a few bites of her ice cream (Rocky Road) before answering my question. "You see, if the secret admirer is going to keep giving you clues, we need a way to keep track of all the eligible bachelors." Piper flips through all of my other yearbooks, frustration growing evident in her expression. Once she had gone through them all, she looks up exasperated "Annabeth, where is last years yearbook?"

"On my desk, why?" I furrow my brow, watching over Piper's shoulder as she rifled through the scattered papers on my desk.

"Because that one will be the most helpful. Not only is it most recent," she flips around, showing off the yearbook held tightly in her hands, "it's also the only one in color."

She plops down in the middle of the floor, a few strands of her choppy brown hair sticking to the corner of her mouth where the residue of some ice cream remains. She opens the book to the first page of sophomores, laying it down in her lap.

"Come children." She beckons us to sit with her. We crowd around her, our half eaten ice cream cluttering my nightstand. "So, here's the plan. After every clue, we cross out anyone who doesn't fit the description. By the end we should have only a few boys to choose from. Simple enough, right?"

"I guess," I say cautiously, "but we aren't using my yearbook. I paid two weeks allowance for it, and I am not going to waste it on some silly teenage drama." Piper stares at the frozen faces in the pictures thoughtfully, sucking her cheeks into her mouth so it resembles a fish.

"M'kay." She nods, closing the yearbook and dropping it in my lap. "I can see where you're coming from." I gape at her, my body frozen in shock.

"Wait, of all the things I argue with you on, the darts and broken heart and Percy's degree of affection for me, the one thing you don't disagree with me on is the thing that could make or break your plan..." I gesture wildly in my confused babbling, my hands almost hitting Silena, who is on my right, a few times in the face.

"Hey, watch it!" Silena dodges my flying limbs, her dark hair flowing her like a shadow. I pause, my hands inches from slapping Silena's dainty nose. She stares at it cross eyed for a few seconds before gathering my hands, interlocking my fingers, and setting them gently in my lap. "Now keep them there, or I will personally duct tape them together."

"Sorry, Silena." I say apologetically. "Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Why give in now?" Piper smirks at me, her hand straying to her pocket, retrieving her phone.

"Because I have other means of getting what I want." She smiles unlocking the phone and scrolling through her contacts. "That's funny, "She mumbles to herself, "I have his number..." Her thumb twitches as she scrolls upward slightly, the blurred black lines that danced along the screen forming text. She groans, burying her head in her hands. "Remind me to never trust Leo with my phone again." She mumbles, her voice muffled by her skin.

"Will do. Now let's get this damn conversation over with. My ice cream is melting." Rachel sends a longing look over to our ice creams.

"You can eat it right now, you know." I shake my head in amusement, when she practically jumps on top of me and knocks me to the ground.

"Thank you, Annie!" She squeals, climbing over Silena to get at her pint. She shovels in a mouthful, her eyes fluttering shut. "This is the life."

"I don't understand why you thought you couldn't eat it." I ask, fiddling with the cover of the yearbook subconsciously.

"I didn't want to make a mess." Rachel shrugs, setting the tub behind her and squeezing her head between her palms, a look of pain crossing her features. She cries out in agony, falling onto Katie's lap. "Brain freeze!"

"Put your tongue to the roof of your mouth." Katie suggests through giggles.

"Guys, can you keep it down? I'm making an important phone call." Piper calls over the commotion we are making. We quickly settle down, quiet covering the room like a thick blanket. "Thanks. So you know how I said I have other means of getting what I want?" Piper glances up, a smirk toying with her glossed lips. "Well, I'm calling that resource." The phone rings, echoing in the silent room.

"Leo here, what can I do for you?" A male voice chirps.

"Leo, it's Piper. I need a favor." Piper grins smugly at me.

"Beauty Queen! How are you? I haven't seen you in ages!" Leo shouts, excitement evident in his eager voice.

"Leo, don't call me that and we hung out last night. Remember, I smoked you in Mario Kart." Piper rolls her eyes, an affectionate glint in her eyes.

"I've chosen to suppress the memories." Leo says dramatically, you can practically hear him clutching at his chest.

"Yeah, yeah." Piper says, dismissing the topic. "Look I need a favor. A big one."

"How big?" Leo questions.

"Major. Life changing big." A low whistle sounds from the phone, piercing the air.

"Holy shit, Piper. What did you steal this time? The presidents night cap?" Leo teases, but it has a nervous edge to it.

"I don't _steal_ things, Leo." Piper shoots back.

"Right, people just give them to you." Leo says sarcastically. Piper huffs in annoyance, her bangs flying up.

"Shut it, Valdez. So, back to the favor."

"Right. Well, tell me what it is and I'll give you my price."

"Can't you just do it out of the goodness in your heart just this once?" Piper taps her fingers impatiently on her knee. Leo laughs, long and hard.

"Oh Piper, we both know my heart has no goodness in it." Leo says in a condescending tone.

"No kidding." Piper mutters. "Anyway, I need a color copy of all the Juniors yearbook pictures, with names."

"Pipes, that's going to take a miracle." Leo whispers. There's the muffled sound of movement and a door closing in the background.

"Why? You're part of the yearbook committee."

"Well, yeah, but I'm not good at it. And we haven't even started printing them." Leo hisses, groaning into the phone.

"Leo, I need those pictures." Piper pleads.

"Fine. Fine, I'll get you the pictures. But, it's going to cost you. Big time."

"Name your price." Piper grins ecstatically.

"A date." Leo says firmly.

"Leo! Gross, I'm dating Jason!" Piper jumps back from the phone, her wrinkled nose showing she is revolted by the idea.

"Not with you! Nasty, Pipes! You're like my sister! No, a date with Calypso." Leo mutters the last part, embarrassed.

"I knew you liked her!" Piper squeals. "Consider it done. I'll be over tomorrow after school to pick it up. Meet you in the computer lab."

"Thanks, you're the best." Leo praises. "I'll try to get it done. No promises. And, uh, Piper?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it really that obvious that I like her?" Leo's voice is hesitant. Piper pauses for a second, thinking.

"Well, I guess that since I've known you forever it was pretty obvious to me. But to someone else it wouldn't be." Piper chews her lip, tearing off a bit of dead skin and wincing in pain.

"Thanks, Pipes." Relief floods Leo's voice.

"Course. And thanks a million, Leo, you're a life saver. Oh by the way, you just announced your crush to Annabeth, Silena, Katie, and Rachel." A flash of guilt sparks in Piper's eyes. She immediately ends the call, Leo's shout of anger and surprise getting cut short. Piper taps her fingers on the lit up screen a few times, pursing her lips as it starts to ring.

"Hello?" A girl's voice asks softly as she picks up after the third ring.

"Callie, it's me." Piper answers, and a sigh of relief can be heard from the other end.

"Thank god. I thought it was Connor again. That boy won't leave me alone!" Calypso mutters, a door slamming in the background followed closely be the sound of a squeaking office chair. "So, why the phone call?"

"If you had any plans Friday night, they are canceled. I got you a date with the one and only Leo Valdez!" Piper informs her. There is a poorly muffled shriek from the other end of the phone.

"You didn't!" Calypso gasps, her attention caught by Piper's statement.

"I did." Piper boasts.

"Piper, how could you? He is horrible, worse then the Stolls even!" Calypso moans.

"Just give him a chance, you might actually enjoy yourself." Piper insists.

"Or it might end in a disaster. I mean, I can't stand being in the same room as him for more then five minutes, how am I suppose to go on a _date _with the pig-headed imbecile?"

"Please, Calypso? I need you to. Otherwise Leo won't complete the favor I'm asking of him, and that isn't an option." Piper lifts the phone from the floor, fingering the smooth case.

"Fine. But I expect it to be the best date I will ever take part of, or I will personally make your life a living hell for a week."

"You're the best! I promise, Leo will be a perfect gentleman the entire time." Piper ignores the threat, eagerly supplying Calypso with what she wants to hear.

"He better be. I've got to go, I don't trust Luke enough to keep Clarisse and Travis from ripping each others throats out. Bye." Calypso hangs up.

"Bye Callie." Piper says to the already dead line. With a twitch of her fingers the phone is ringing once again.

"What do you want?" A surly voice snaps.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for them to hear." Piper lets shame mingle with the exasperation and regret in her voice.

"Yeah, well sorry doesn't sweeten my tea." Leo answers, his voice more recognizable without the sour mood taking over it.

"You totally got that off of Drake and Josh." Piper cracks a smile. "But I have some news that will sweeten three pots of tea for you." She pauses.

"Well, go on." Leo eggs on impatiently.

"Callie agreed to go on a date with you Friday. You two can figure out the details." Piper hangs up suddenly, grinning at the four of us. "How was that? Pretty impressive if I do say so myself."

"You were amazing." Katie breaths, her mouth hanging slightly open.

"Why thank you. Now, let's eat the feast on the ice cream before it melts."

**~~~(Line Break)~~~**

After eating as much ice cream as our teenage bodies could handle, my father shooed them out of the door, politely throwing out excuses about curfews and how dangerous New York can be. After a firm click from the door as it closed, my dad bid me goodnight. After putting on my warmest pajamas I clean up my room. Unable of even attempting at falling asleep I smooth the notes out on my perfectly made bed, sitting cross-legged near my pillow.

The hand writing looks slightly familiar, like I've seen flashing glimpses of it before. Under a closer examination I can recognize three different ways in which the handwriting isn't as perfect as I previously suspected. The E's always have a thin string of ink connecting them to the next letter, while the A's aren't the traditional kind they teach you in school. These are the type on keyboards, with the line looping above the round circle. The Y's are slightly lopsided, and the top round instead of angular.

My eyes droop from sleepiness, and with the startling realization that it's almost 11 I tuck the notes away and crawl under my covers. Stretching my arm out to shut off my bedside lamp, I retract it and burrow deeper into the blanket, managing a small yawn before drifting off.

**~~~(Line Break)~~~**

A sharp buzz jerks me awake, and I nearly tumble onto the beige carpet on my bedroom floor in surprise. I whip my head around, fumbling with my phone to stop the racket. I unlock the screen through blurry eyes, squinting to focus on the screen.

'_Where are you? Class started ten minutes ago.'_ A text from Percy reads, and I hop out of bed, throwing on a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt from my dresser.

_'Slept in. Forgot to set my alarm.' _I reply, running a comb frantically through my frizzy blonde locks before tyeing it up into a ponytail. I collect my coat and backpack from my bedroom floor, scrunching a clean pair of socks up in my palm. Dashing down the hallway, I struggle to simultaneously put on socks, a coat, and zip an over stuffed backpack. A buzz echoes from the mesh pocket on the side of my bag, the one designed for water bottles that never appear. I fish it out, shoving my left arm deeper into the puffy sleeve of my jacket.

_'Yikes. Sounds like a rough morning.' _I tap the keys a few times before pressing send, sighing in defeat as I gaze at the tangled mess of things at my feet.

_'You have no idea.'_ I had said. Slowly I begin to assemble the pieces needed for me to attend school. First I put my socks and shoes on, then put my arm through the other sleeve of my jacket. Third, turn off my phone and deposit it deep into my backpack. And fourth, double check I have all my books and my key for the apartment. Once I check all the tasks off my list, I barge through the door and take the stairs two at a time, my hurried manner returning to me once again.

It takes my three minutes to get to the school building, and two more to get to class with today's secret admirer note stuck between my fingers and the Math textbook tightly clutched in my hand. Mrs. Thompson shoots me a dirty look, but keeps going on with her lecture. People stare at me in surprise, obviously not expecting the always punctual Annabeth Chase to be late for class.

It irks me, twisting my face into a scowl. People have expectations that need to be fulfilled, or they get cranky. They don't like change or the prospect that things won't be structured and perfect in their universe. If the loner puts himself out there to make friends, he is automatically shut down by everyone. If the annoyingly perky girl from their third hour has a 'tude that day she is bullied into answering why she wasn't chatting our ears off, which may just be because she doesn't want to babble all day anymore. They bager and push until everyone fits into their own box, a label slapped down on the surface with no hope of peeling off. If I could read my sticker, I know it would say 'Teachers Pet'. I have to admit I fit the description well- people rarely get mislabeled- so you can see why it's very out of character for me to be late to class, let alone come in halfway through it.

Slumping into my desk, I flip open my textbook to the page number on the board, following along with only half my brain. The other half lingers on the subject of the snow white envelope taunting me on my desk. I give into to the temptation and swipe the envelope off the desk, ripping off chunks of paper as quietly as I can. After a heart racing minute of this the envelope is finally open enough for me to tip the contents into my palm, unfolding the same style paper to reveal the flawed handwriting of my secret admirer.

_Dear Annabeth,_

_I noticed you weren't too thrilled with my label of what we are doing. I apologize- __you're right, love isn't a game. Too bad we agree this isn't a game, I even spent time coming with a catchy name. The Guessing Game. I'm pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself. I'm still going to give you clues, I want to be found. It takes every ounce control to not shout who I am every time I see you, although hopefully this all works out in the end. Today's hint is that I'm taller then you._

_-Your Secret Admirer_

I have to remind myself that I'm in the middle of math class, and that I'll get sent to the principals office if I start throwing things around in a fit of frustration. Crumbling the note into a tightly packed ball of drop it into my pocket. This secret admirer of mine longs to be unveiled, and along with that hopes I'll be swept off my feet by his tactic and we'll start a relationship. _Well, I have news for you buddy. Here in New York, we don't exactly fit your average fairy tale._ Bitterly I start the work Mrs. Thompson assigned, throwing myself into the problems.

Class ends faster then I want it to, I want to bury myself in the pages of problems still sitting unsolved in my textbook. I want my entire mind concentrated on the problems, leaving no space for my own. But, you can't always get what you want in life, so class ends and I get bombarded by questions from Percy whose investigating why I'm acting like a full scale bitch right now.

"Come on, Annabeth. Please tell me what's wrong." Percy pleads, blocking my locker from me. I ignore him, knowing the only things that are going to come out of my mouth will be nasty and I'll regret saying them later. "Is it your secret admirer? Because if it is, I'll make sure he can never have kids again."

I can't help but crack a smile. It's small, but it's a smile nonetheless. Percy goes bezerk, cheering and hugging me like he just won the lottery.

"You smiled!" He grins, cupping my cheeks in his hands. "I love your smile. It's beautiful, like you." Percy freezes, realizing what he just said. "I, uh, I h-have to go."

He stumbles down the hall, clearly shaken at his own words. I don't blame him, my knees are a little wobbly themselves. I lean up against my locker, gently touching the spot where he held my face. It feels the same, but completely different. His touch felt like fire, heating up my insides until I feel like a human volcano, ready to erupt. _He doesn't feel that way, you idiot _I chastise myself, forcing my knees to lock into place and the blood red blush on my cheeks to subside. Walking stiffly to my next class, I try to exile the butterflies in my stomach that took off when Percy touched me. _You're supposed to be getting over him. And I don't care what excuse you or your friends can come up with, it isn't going to happen.  
_

When I enter the classroom, I'm not surprised to see that almost everyone in the class is there, including my group. Jason is talking to Piper while she leans up against a wall, their fingers loosely connected between them, while Silena and Rachel are gabbing. Katie was red faced as she spoke to Conner and Travis- oh my god, is that what I think it is? Is Travis's arm around Katie's waist? And her hand tucked in his back pocket? It _is_! Katie catches my bug-eyed expression and turns crimson, causing chuckles to escape the two almost identical brothers. Katie slaps Travis on the chest, although not with her usual gusto, when he whispers something in her ear.

"Travis Stoll, I don't care that we're dating, I am still going to beat you to a pulp every time you say that." She said, glaring at the curly haired boy. He just tugged her closer, winking his twinkling blue eyes.

"That's okay, I like 'em feisty." Katie looks appalled as she shoves him out of the door, shooing him off to his next class. He ducks in one last time, kissing her on the cheek and running out to a background of wolf whistles and cheers.

Katie walks over to our table in a daze, nearly knocking over three chairs and bumping into two people. She collapses into her chair, a dreamy smile on her lips. Piper escapes from Jason, taking her place at the seat across from me. She observes Katie, giving her an affectionate one-armed hug.

"Congratulations, Katie." She says, skimming her eyes over Silena and Rachel until she hits me. Me, with the still red cheeks and half dreamy half stern expression on my face. With the tangled hair and faded t-shirt, the clenched fists and phony smile. "Annabeth?"

I stare straight ahead, blocking out the world, along with all the confusion and emotions that go along with it.

"Annabeth, are you okay? You look a little... off." Rachel leans forward, observing me through bright green eyes. Eyes that Percy found attractive and would rant about for hours. Eyes that would always shine in adoration when they saw Percy. Eyes that would always have a soft spot for Percy, that the owner would use as a tool to get Percy to bend to her will. Eyes that almost had what I crave desperately.

"I... no, I'm not okay. I'm one hundred percent not okay." I say firmly, tearing my gaze from those green eyes. I never understand why people lie about being fine when they aren't, then complain that people don't get what how they feel. You can't expect people to act if you give them nothing to act on. If you lie that you're alright, yeah they might hug you and say they know you aren't. Or, they'll leave you alone because that's the vibe you gave them with your answer. Maybe the fault in the situation isn't the people around you, but you.

"What's the matter?" Katie asks, surfacing from dreamland. She has green eyes to, but they match the green of grass. I don't mind her eyes.

"Everything. Everything is the matter." I sigh, rubbing my face with my hands.

"Amen." Silena chimes in, turning her attention to the conversation at hand.

"Okay, so what was the first problem?" Piper says slowly.

"That I'm in love with my best friend." I speak into my hands.

"That can cause a lot of problems." Silena agrees. She should know, she and Beckendorf were close friends for years until he finally grew a pair and asked her out.

"And when did this happen?" Piper asks, ignoring Silena's comment.

"I don't know." I sigh. It's not true, I know exactly when I fell for him. We were fifteen, and I had had a crush on him since we were twelve. I was at the beach with him for my birthday, and we were splashing each other with water. He had dove into the water, leaving me searching everywhere for him. I had started to grow hysterical, screaming his name while tears gathered in my eyes. It had hit me then, like a rhino crashing into me, just how much I cared for Percy.

"I think you do." Piper nods, but doesn't pry. "So, what was today's clue?"

I fish out the crumpled ball, dropping it on the desks with as much indifference as I can muster.

"Ooh, this must be a bad one." Rachel mutters, gently undoing the damage I have done to the paper. She reads it, then passes it to Katie who passes it to Piper, who hands it to Silena. Silena startles me by roughly shoving the paper back into its ball from before handing it to me.

"You did that for a reason. Don't let us undo that." She looks into my eyes with hers, a slightly blue slightly purple combination.

I nod, allowing one moment for me to admire where Silena's coming from before the bell rings.

**~~~(Line Break)~~~**

At lunch Percy acted the same as always, so I followed suit. The exchanges were the same, food and spoken, so I knew he had no plan on revealing why he said what he said this morning. I'm not going to lie that it didn't bug me, it did. I may have fantasized about taking Hazel's plastic fork and threatening him with it, insisting he tell me what he meant to accomplish with his actions this morning while pressing the slimy tongs against his beloved cookies. Not the best threat, but at least I wasn't threatening to hurt him.

I slam my locker shut, adjusting my backpack so it sits higher on my back. School had ended five minutes ago, and I was to meet Piper along with the others in the computer lab. I walk slowly toward the lab, taking as many detours as I can get away with. Bad idea.

"Hey, Annabeth!" A voice calls from behind me. I stop in my tracks, ducking my head down. They jog up behind me, stopping so they stand a few inches in front of me. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have done it either, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Apology accepted. Now, if you'll excuse me I have prior engagements that I need to get to." I keep my head low, using their sneakers as a guide of where they are.

"You don't seem to eager to get there, at the pace you were walking." They joke.

"I still have to be there." I shrug. The next words that come out of my mouth are nasty and crude, the perfect definition of a low blow. "And it's private. Girls only."

The feet next to mine stop, boys trainers with the scuff mark near the toe. The baggy jeans have frayed cuffs.

"But I thought... best friends, Annabeth." Percy whimpers. Guilt crashes over me in waves, knocking the breath out of me.

"Percy, I... it's not that. I just... I need some space, okay? Just until this secret admirer thing is over with and I know who it is." I look up into his sea green eyes. Oh how I hate green eyes. Always full of rejection and pity. He swallows, nodding his head.

"Okay. Okay, fine. But, just remember that I'm here if you need me." His eyes look slightly watery, like he's close to tears. I reach out to touch his arm but he flinches back.

"I will." I say softly. And then he leaves, not turning back once.

**Done! Thank you to everyone who Followed, Favorited, and Reviewed! Sorry this chapter was really melodramatic at the end, I had a happy ending for the chapter, but as you can see that didn't happen. And sorry for the long wait, I was at two sleepovers for the last five days, so I didn't have time to write.**

**Please spare a few seconds and review! **


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson series.**

Numbly I make my way to the computer lab. I can't feel the pain, but I know soon it'll pop out of no where, rendering me breathless with tears bubbling in my eyes. I know Percy doesn't understand why I'm pushing him away, why I'm not telling him every detail of my thoughts like I used to. Used to, as in past tense. I hate past tense, just like I hate green eyes and February.

I arrive at the Computer Lab, unintentionally I had zoned out while walking here. I push open the heavy door, my cold fingers wrapping around an equally cold handle. I see Piper lounging on one of the chairs, laughing at a comment someone made. I Silena's sitting around with a bored expression plastered on her face, scuffing her toe against the floor. Rachel is the one gabbing with Piper, who is giggling once again. They collectively look up as I enter, smiles with varying degrees of enthusiasm shinning up at me. I take a seat next to Silena, staring blankly at my hands. Perking up from her unentertained state she watches me closely. I can feel her eyes boring into my hands, then my frowning mouth, then my eyes.

"You're upset. Why?" She leans back in her chair.

"It's nothing." I mutter, turning away so she knows I'm not inviting anymore questions.

"You're lying. What's bothering you?" Silena insists, shifting once again in her seat.

"Nothing." I say, allowing an angry edge to creep into my voice. Silena doesn't even flinch.

"Liar." She states, drawing the attention of the teenage girls giggling a few rows away.

"It's not important. Just, drop the subject, okay?" I clench my fists in frustration, digging them into my knees.

"It must be important if you're this upset." Silena scoots her chair closer, leaning nearer to me. "Tell me. Please."

I refuse to meet her gaze, knowing that if I do I'll dissolve into a puddle of tears, weeping as a freight train of pain hits me. I gnaw on my cheeks, it's a nasty habit, digging my jagged nails into the soft flesh on my palm.

"I can't." I whisper, closing my eyes to keep the train at bay.

The door bursts open, my eyes flying open along with it, and a short Latino boy strutting in with a wild smile on his face.

"It's official, I'm a miracle worker!" He announces, oblivious to the strained atmosphere in the room. Piper jumps up from her seat, taking the folder Leo is holding like it is a precious newborn.

"Ain't that the truth." Piper agrees, tucking the folder under her arm.

"Are you wondering how I pulled it off?" Leo asks, stretching himself out on the chair Piper sat in moments before. He swings his feet up onto the table, ones without thinning fabric on the toes. His are stained with something that closely resembles motor oil, it would be hopeless to attempt to clean them.

"Not really, but that won't stop you, will it?" Piper's sarcasm is something I've always admired about her. She knows just when to throw it in, a dash or an overbearing amount. Hell, she's amazing at speaking to people in general.

"Yup! So me, being a genius, told Calypso we should run a quick test copy of what we have so far, to see how it turns out. So, when she went to throw it away, I snuck out the Junior section. That's why there are girls in it."

"Not bad, Valdez." Piper admits.

"Well, I'm off to talk with Calypso. We have a date tomorrow, after all." He puffs his chest out, grinning broadly. He walks to the door, whistling a merry tune. Piper's fingers flutter in the air, her expression unsure.

"Uh, Leo?" She calls after him.

"Yeah?" His smile is blinding, not from his teeth but from the pure joy radiating from it.

"You may be my best dude friend, but if you aren't a complete gentleman to her I won't hesitate to snap your neck." Piper's hand drifts back to her side, fingers curling inward slightly.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to mess this one up." Leo reassures her, exiting with those as his final words.

"Right. Well, we should wait here for Katie." Piper shrugs helplessly, lost in a daze of thoughts.

"I wonder where she is. Probably with Travis." Rachel giggles, her green eyes sparkling. Have I mentioned I hate green eyes?

"Maybe. Hey, Annabeth?" Piper calls, opening the folder and spreading the glossy sheets out.

"Yeah?" I answer, getting up from my seat.

"Do you have a sharpie?" Piper glances over her shoulder, and I duck to search my bag. I let miscellaneous pencils and pens slip through my fingers, adjusting the main frame of the bag so more light can get in. I see one in the corner of my bag and hold it up victoriously.

"Got it!" I cheer, holding it up high in the air. Piper swipes it from my palm, flattening my hand so she can give me a high-five.

"Fantastic! Alright, first we have to cross out all the girls." Piper says, getting right to work. She crosses out people, her method varying from large X's to drawing moles and unibrows to scribbling over the entire box. She blows a loose strand of hair from her face, her mouth twisting to the side as she examines her work.

"Good job, sis. Now, we need to cross out anyone shorter then Annabeth." Silena leans over Piper's shoulder, snatching the marker from her step-sister's hand.

She hunches over the pages, blocking everyone's view. After a couple minutes of shuffling feet and craneing necks Silena dramatically caps the marker. She dusts off her hand and walks away without a word. I charge forward, flipping through the inked pages. My heart freezes when I get to the halfway point, and I'm close to hyperventilating.

They left Percy alone. _They left him alone._

"Guys..." I breath, my voice catching in my throat.

"Annie, just give it a rest. He might be it, you won't know until Valentine's Day. Please, just this once, let a little hope in your heart." Piper whispers encouragingly, approaching me like she would a rabid animal that could attack at any given moment. I swallow the lump forming in my throat, letting the blind panic and rage go down with it. It settles in my gut, twisting it into tight knots.

"Fine." My voice comes out weak and scratchy. I clear my throat, coughing into my elbow. When I speak again my voice holds much more confidence and power. "Fine. But the second he doesn't fit, he's gone."

Piper nods, gently extracting the slippery pages from between my sweaty fingers. She smooths out the papers, dissatisfaction drawing her eyebrows into a dip that meets between her eyes. Rubbing her forehead firmly before picking up the marker and crossing out a few more people, sometimes skipping whole pages. Slapping the Sharpie down with finality, Piper throws her arms up in the air.

"There, it's up to date. Everyone left is a Junior boy who is single and taller then Annabeth." Piper drops into her seat, accepting a fist-bump from Rachel. Silena picks up the pages, offering a few comments now and then.

"What I want to know is why did you mark people differently?" I ask, peering over Silena's shoulder impatiently.

"The ones with X's are people I don't mind, completely scribbled out is people I hate, and the faces are people who we are friends with." Piper's stretches out her long limbs, resting her feet casually on Rachel's lap. She closes her eyes, humming in content. Rachel screws up her face in an overexaggerated method, pinching her nose shut and fanning her face.

"Honestly, Pipes, do you ever wash your feet? They smell horrendous." Rachel's voice sounds nasally through her tightly clasped nostrils.

"I'm wearing my gym shoes, of course they smell like roadkill." Piper removes her feet one at a time, bracing her hands against the ends of the armrest.

"I don't know why you go around smelling roadkill, but I guess they kinda do." Rachel brushes off her jeans, the dark blue fabric clinging stubbornly to the bits of dirt that fell off Piper's purple tennis shoes.

"It was a comparison, Rach, no need to be so serious about it. Do you really think I spend my weekends driving around looking for roadkill to sniff?" Piper shakes her head in mock indignation, her small nose pointed high in the air. "I'm ashamed of you."

"Don't lie to me, I've seen you on the side of the road, inhaling the scent of the rotting corpses." Rachel pinches her lips together until they form a thin line.

"You've unleashed my deepest secret! Yes, I do smell roadkill during my spare time!" Piper dramatically launches herself backward in her chair, covering her eyes with the back of her hand. Rachel shakes her head, her tone deadly serious.

"You make me sick." Rachel even pretends to spit at her feet for added effect, stomping out of the room. The doors close softly behind her, making up for the huffed exit Rachel made. Piper bursts into laughter, holding her stomach. Silena just rolls her eyes, stacking the papers into a neat pile before handing them to me.

"Here you go. Keep it safe until this is over, don't forget to mark who's eligible and who isn't. I have to get those two idiots home." Silena pats my hand twice before slinging Piper's backpack on her shoulder and dragging her out the door.

I sit heavily in the nearest seat, putting my head in my hands. I close my eyes and press the moist palms of my hands against my eyelids, sighing deeply as spots dance in the darkness. Tears gather in the corner of my eyes and I place even more pressure against my eyes to stop the liquid ready to pour out.

The door softly opens, barely a whisper against the thoughts raging a war in my mind. The subtle snap as the door locks back into place echoes through the room, only being accompanied by the loud breaths the other person is taking.

"Silena, I'm fine. I was just thinking." I mutter flatly, my nose slightly plugged up with mucus that got dragged down by gravity.

"I'm not Silena." A very _male_ voice answers. I shriek in alarm, nearly falling out of my chair in the process.

"Holy shit, you scared me." I breath, my heart pounding against my chest harshly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to." I stare at the boys shoes, my eyes climbing up his tall figure to the sheepish smile on his face. It's Luke Castellen. Luke Castellen, with the piercing blue eyes and spiky blond hair. Luke Castellen, captain of the basketball team and senior class president. Luke Castellen, the boy who asked me out on a date in eight grade as a dare. I avert my eyes, brushing the few tear drops away with my thumb. "Did I- did I interrupt something? Because I can go if I did..." Luke starts to walk away, his shoulders slightly slumped in... it can't be... _disappointment?_ It intrigues me, I can't tell you that I don't mind loose ends without having to lie.

"Wait, Luke... come back" my hands flies out in the air as if to reach for him, and I squeeze my eyes shut tightly.

"Okay." Luke sits in the seat across from me, watching me with an amused smile on his lips. He leans his elbows on his thighs, placing his head on the bundle of his woven fingers.

"What's so interesting?" I question, slipping the stack of pictures as discreetly as I can into my worn looking backpack.

"You are." He states simply, separating his hands and pressing his back against the seat.

"I am?" I question in disbelief, zipping the largest pocket of my bag closed.

"Yeah, you are." He shrugs and smirks slightly at me.

"On what planet am I entertaining in the slightest?" The reassuring weight of my schoolwork keeps me calm and collected, a constant amid a storm of always changing variables.

"This one, duh." Luke rolls his eyes, shaking his head in wonder.

"Oh." I reply dumbly, dropping my gaze in hope that he won't be able to see the hot blush blossoming on my cheeks.

"Annabeth?" Luke asks, his tone no longer teasing.

"Mhm?" I hum softly, still placing my gaze on the floor.

"I was wondering..." He clears his throat, sighing slightly. "I was wondering if... you... are free Friday night?" Luke's voice squeaks slightly and I glance up long enough to see that he is the color of a ripe cherry.

"That depends. Why are you asking?" I ask cautiously. If this is just another dare, there is no way I'm letting him shut me down.

"Because I like you." Luke states with a tiny bit of confidence. _He's nervous around_ me! He shifts in his seat, shoulders pulled tightly back, the twitch of nervousness in his smile hints at how unnatural this must be for him. Girls are always falling at his feet, begging to spend an evening with him. It's never the other way around, and we both know it.

"In that case, I'm free." I shrug, smiling like this is an everyday occurrence.

"Good. Great!" Luke gives a breathy laugh, his posture relaxing. "I was worried..." He trails off, blushing profusely.

"That I was going to say no? I didn't have the heart. Especially since you were moments away from being on your knees and begging. That's just unbecoming of a man of you status." I wave my hand in the air, surprising myself at how easily I can joke with Luke.

"A man of my status? And what status am I at, exactly?" Luke tilts his head to the side, a teasing glint in his blue eyes. _I like blue eyes,_ I think distractedly.

"Well, your a senior, your at the height of your basketball career, _and _you have blue eyes." I smile at him, knowing I must look like I'm a hyena baring her teeth.

"What do my eyes have to do with anything?" He asks, bemusement registering on his handsome features. I've never let myself look at him this way, but I can now see how truly good looking he is. His angular cheekbones highlight the humorous curve of his lips and the teasing sparkle that never quite leaves his eyes.

"Nothing." I feel my smile flicker, but paste it back on. "Things just sound better in threes."

It is a weak lie, barely believable if you have a single working braincell, but Luke doesn't ask questions.

"True," Luke admits, knocking his knee against mine.

"So, this date Friday..." I trail off, suddenly shyness is the only emotion I can remember how to express.

"Yeah, I'll pick you up at, say, seven?" He wipes his hands on his jeans, smiling crookedly at me.

"Sure. Do you know where I live?" I ask, knowing the answer is no.

"No, but that would be helpful." He shrugs and I laugh, ripping off the corner of scrap paper that's lying around from the last class of the day. I scrawl my address messily onto the paper using the first writing utensil I snatch from my bag.

"Here ya go." I hand him the paper, our fingers brushing briefly before the scrap is resting in his palm.

"Your handwriting is amazing." He fibs, squinting slightly to decipher the hastily written words.

"Liar." I giggle, swatting at his shoulder. He captures my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine. I stare at them for a minute, waiting for the concerning amount of blush and butterflies filling me to vanish. Once I get the courage to peek up at Luke I jerk away in shock when it registers that he is staring at me intensely.

"Your eyes are beautiful." He murmurs, bashfully hiding his from mine.

"Thanks." I squeeze his hand gently, offering him a soft smile.

"Mhm." He nods.

I watch him for a minute, taking note of the way he plays with the loose string on his shirt when he's nervous. Percy runs his hand through his hair when he's nervous._Shut up, you are_ not_ going to think about Percy while holding Luke's hand!_

"Are you okay, Annabeth?" Luke's eyebrows crease in concern and I shake my head slightly to get the thought about Percy out of my head.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I brush off his unease with a tight smile.

"You sure? Because-" He is cut off by a sharp crack as the medal handle on the door slams against the concrete wall.

"Annabeth, I'm sorry-" It's Percy. He stands frozen in shock, his eyes bulging slightly when they see my hand in Luke's. So many emotions cross his face at once I can't read him. Finally every thing stands still when he decides on one emotion: Hurt. "Girls only, huh?" His voice is deadly calm, rage causing his hands to tremble. White knuckled, he storms out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

"Percy!" I scream, chasing after him. I see his jagged shoulder blades pressed tightly against his shirt as they round the corner, heading for the stairs. "Percy!"

I force my legs to pump faster, scratching my fingers raw as I grapple with corners in order to turn. His hulking figure never looses its speed, but I've always been faster then Percy. I scramble to get in front of him, blocking the exit.

"Percy, please, just hear me out." I pant, my chest heaving. A thin layer of sweat covers my face, the effect of following him down two flights of stairs as fast as I can go.

"Why should I? You obviously blew me off to hang out with _Luke._" He growls, venom infecting Luke's name. He tries to sidestep me, but I shuffle my feet until I'm in his way once more.

"I didn't, and that's something you'd know if you would _just hear me out._" I plead, increasing my grip on the door handle. Percy narrows his eyes at me, considering his options.

"Fine. But you have two minutes." He warns, his harsh tone clashing against his normally laid back personality.

"Right." I form what I'm going to say into words before blurting it all out. I decide on the truth. Well, most of the truth, I leave out how Piper and Silena talked me into leaving his picture unmarked.

Percy listens skeptically, chewing on his lip in his indecision on weather or not to believe me. When I'm done I bow my head, preparing for his angry outburst.

"Annabeth, that is the biggest pile of shit I have ever heard coming out of your mouth." Percy knocks his shoulder into mine as he strides pass, leaving me gaping in pure shock. A strangled cry of protest slips out of my mouth, but Percy doesn't stop.

My knees buckle and I collapse onto the tile. I can't watch him leave, not again. My eyes start to water, tears forming and clinging to my eyelashes. _Don't blink, Annabeth. Whatever you do, don't blink. He has no power over you, don't let him be the reason you cry again. _I peel my gaze off the floor, the biting wind retreating from the heated building as the door closes. An army of goosebumps rise on my arms, the light catching every fine hair.

Slowly I piece myself together, standing up like it pains me to do so, and making my way up the endless amount of stairs between me and my backpack. Eventually I reach the top, my breathing still as level as it was when I started the ascent. I trudge haltingly down the hall, as if I'm moving through a pool full of maple syrup. My feet carry me to the Computer Lab, where Luke is still waiting in the same position I left him in.

He stumbles to his feet, the hope in his eyes forcing me to look away.

"How'd it go?" He asks eagerly.

"I don't want to talk about it." I drape my backpack over my shoulder, avoiding eye contact with Luke at all costs.

"That bad, huh?" He lays a sympathetic hand on my forearm, causing me to jerk away.

"I said I don't want to talk about it." I firmly state, raising my voice slightly.

A noise of frustration gurgles in my throat, clawing its way up my esophagus and demanding it be let out. Instead I swallow it down, tears springing back once again into my eyes-but this time it's from the sharp stab of pain in my neck rather then from emotional trauma. When I speak my voice is softer, all the fight drained out of me. Arguing with your best friend takes a lot of energy, especially when they leave you stranded.

"Luke, it's been a rough day. I need to go home and think. I'm sorry." I weave through the abandoned desks, allowing the thud of the heavy door behind me echo the finality in which I'm leaving.

I retrace my steps to the exit, burying my chin in my coat before heading out into the dry winter air. Familiar sounds reach my cold ears, the dull throb of traffic accompanied by a few loud honks. Rustling coats as pedestrians bustle past each other in an attempt to get into their target destination on time. Even the whistling breeze registers as normal. _How can people go on as if life is normal when my Topsy-turvy life could qualify as a living hell?_

I join the stream of traffic on the sidewalks, finding the groove of who lets their limbs fly loosely around them._ Just like last night when you were talking to Piper and almost hit Silena. And then Piper called Leo to get the pictures, which still have Percy's face untouched. _An overwhelming urge to throw up accompanies these thoughts, nerves tingling all over my body. _Don't think of him. _I dodge another arm, this one connects to a person with black hair. _Percy has black hair._ I shake my head fiercely, banishing all thought of _Him_ out of my brain. A blue coat catches my eye, thoughts of _Him_ resurfacing. _Stop it, Annabeth! Just go home, no more thinking about Percy. Dammit, you thought _His_ name!_

I kick a nearby pebble out of anger, and it bounces off the pavement, settling in the gutter. It felt good- scratch that, _great- _to get a bit of frustration out, even if it's on an unsuspecting stone. I nudge a hunk of ice with the toe of my shoe, frowning when I feel icy liquid start to invade my socks._ I need better shoes, _I think with a troubled crease in my brow. Childishly, I chase down the skidding hunk of ice, prodding it with my toe once again. It spins toward the buildings lining the walkway, stopping between two abandoned complexes. Naively I duck between the tall, looming structures, toying with the frozen liquid. It crashes against the brick wall after a particularly strong kick, shattering into small shards.

A shape emerges from the shadows, transforming into a man with a brooding scowl that quickly turns into a wild expression, his eyes combing the crowd behind me. A rusty pocket knife catches the weak rays of the sun from his grubby fist, and he reeks of alcohol.

"Hey, young lady! Get over here!" He points a stern finger at me. He has a belly that protrudes over his worn dress slacks, contrasting greatly with the stringy woolen sweater that hangs off his large frame. The clothes are accompanied by meaty hands and a beefy chin that help you realize he isn't exactly on the slim side. Bright red ears are surrounded by thinning grey hair and day old scruff. His large nose is slightly crooked, giving his bloodshot eyes a mean appearance. His eyes are green, I hate green eyes. _Percy has green eyes._

"Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to disturb you." I apologize, stuffing my hands into the pockets in my jacket. He narrows his eyes at me, a sneer curling back his deep red lips.

"Sorry won't fix anything, girlie." He growls, pouncing on me with a degree of agility I didn't suspect he possessed, wrapping a large hand around my hair. He tugs sharply, my cry of pain barely audible over the hustle and bustle of New York. He drags me deeper into the ally, farther from witnesses other then lanky shadows.

"Sir, I think this is highly unnecessary. If you would please let go of my hair I would be happy to negotiate with you." I swallow the saliva gathering under my tongue, forcing down a whimper as he pulls my head closer to his mouth.

"I don't want to strike a deal, girlie." His hot breath smells sour, and he licks his lips while his eyes travel down my body hungrily.

"I don't think that is a very good idea." I squeak, inching as far away from him as my hair will let me.

"Sure it is." He tugs me even closer, his thick hand covering most of my waist. I struggle to break free, drawing the attention of a few people passing by. None move to help me- the poor girl about to get dragged into an ally by a drunk to ashamed to go home.

A heavy body slams into the man's from behind, sending us both tumbling to the ground. Now people start to move, pulling the hefty man off of me and helping me to my feet. Hands brush away the snow sticking to my coat, offering sympathy and insulting the intoxicated man. I push them all off, claiming I'm all right and there's no need to worry.

"I only want to know who ran into us." I repeat over and over. A women jumps at the chance to find them, disappearing into the cluster of people around the man. She returns with a man in a beat up jacket and baggy cargo pants. The man-or should I say boy- is leaning on crutches. "Are you the person who ran into the man?"

"That would be me." He confirms, smiling warmly.

"Thank you. I owe you big time." The boy shakes his head at my comment, frustration evident on his previously smiling face.

"You don't owe me anything. I was just being a decent human being."

"I- I guess that's one way of looking at it." I stutter, nodding slightly. "My name's Annabeth, by the way."

"Grover." He releases his grip on one crutch, holding out his hand for me to shake. He has a strong grip. His warm brown eyes meet mine with a confidence that can't be bought. "It was nice to meet you, Annabeth. I hope I'll see you in the future."

"Nice to meet you." I echo, watching him skillfully make his way through the crowd.

_Maybe even hell has its angels._

** I think that was a good place to end it. And sorry for the long wait, life got in the way of my writing schedule. Thanks for the favorites, follows, and reviews!**

**Care to tell me what you think in a review?**


	5. Chapter 4

**I am the worst, I'm so sorry for the wait. Life got really busy all at once and writing kinda ended up on the back burner. Also I altered the ending of the last chapter a bit, so if you haven't read the newer version at some points the chapter might get confusing. So, without further ado, the next chapter of The Guessing Game!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Percy Jackson series.**

_Things like this don't happen to me. They happen in books or movies, but mot to your average Joe like me. _I run a frantic hand through my hair, knotting the blonde curls. I merge into the pedestrians briskly walking along the sidewalk, hunching my shoulders until I'm barely noticeable. I earn a few wondering looks, but soon the focus of the pedestrian is snatched away to an electronic device. The man's hot breath still lingers on my face, causing my stomach to tighten with disgust. _The second I get home I'm taking a shower, _I scratch at my neck, powdery dead skin clinging to the underside of my nails.

I no longer feel comfortable in my own skin, like I'm a stranger observing somebody else's life. My mind is detached from my body, and I need someone to help me put things back in place. My first instinct is to wander over to Percy's house, let his warm embrace fit my pieces back together again. It seems like I've burned that bridge though, so I cross that off my mental list of potential solutions. The prospect of swallowing down my discomfort and ignoring the constant urge to flinch every time I make physical contact with someone is far too tempting. If I give into the temptation I _know _I'll regret it later.

Last time I suppressed my emotions- well, let's just say it didn't end well.

A inhale the dry, February air, my lungs rattling in my chest with the overabundance of air. A woman cuts in front of me, gabbing away on her Bluetooth, blissfully unaware of the mini heart attack she just gave me. My pounding heartbeat thuds steadily against my ribs, dimming the roar of the crowd. I place a frozen hand over my heart. Well, over my jacket where my heart lies. My hesitant pace must be too slow for New Yorkers because by the time I stomp my shoes on the welcome mat of my dad's apartment complex I've been passed at least six times, including an irritated shoulder brush (more like ramming) from a middle aged man with greasy hair.

I give my shoes one final wipe before charging up the four flights of stairs to the apartment. The elevator takes an age to arrive, and five more for you to arrive at the desired floor. I fumble with my keys, dropping them on three occasions while my hands shiver violently. Eventually I get a firm grasp on the metal, my hands growing steadier as heat from the building leeches into them.

"Dad, Helen, I'm home!" I call out, stepping on the toes of my shoes to get them off. My socks are plastered to my feet with a mixture of melted snow and cold sweat. Peeling off the layer, I toss them in the hamper near the door, covering up Bobby' s ripped pant leg.

Bobby is twins with Matthew, an irritating duo if I've ever seen one. They are products of my dad and Helen, my step-mother, which means they are my half-brothers. Fun stuff. Anyway, the pair look almost exactly alike, the only way I can tell them apart is that Matthew combs his hair to the right instead of the left and has a mole right at the corner of his eye. They are eight, a _lovely_ age. Note the sarcasm.

In truth, they are a bit cute. They have these huge brown eyes that make you melt when they ask for something, along with kinky brown hair that they keep long enough to flop on their foreheads. Their high voices should be irritating at the least, but somehow it endearing to hear their young tones. But not when they are fighting, oh God, it's like someone released a banshee in the apartment! Horrible shrieks meld with eardrum shattering war cries, creating an eerie melody of screams.

But other then that I love the twins and spoil them rotten every chance I get. Their mother, Helen, is married to my dad. They've been married since I was seven, and Helen's like a mom to me. My real mom ran off when I was two, abandoning me and my father on a Friday. She left while I was napping, and when I woke up she didn't answer my bawling so I screamed my throat raw until my dad arrived home from work. Obviously I don't have very positive feelings toward my mother.

"Annie! Annie!" The twins chorus, skipping down the hall to greet me. They each wrap themselves around one of my legs, something they insist on doing even though they grew to big for it years ago.

"Come play with us!" Matthew shouts, Bobby nodding enthusiastically.

"I would love to, guys, but I have homework to do." I peel them off, planting a kiss on top of their heads before making my way to my room.

Their disappointment floods the air, causing guilt to pool in my subconscious. A sniffle travels down the hall to me, forcing me to quicken my pace or I'll cave in to their wants. A small whimper strikes me like a slap and it takes _every ounce _of self control I have to not run back to them and play their confusing games. Most of which end with them tackling me to the ground, Lego pieces feeling like nails as they dig into my back.

Just as I reach my door a strangled sob drifts down the hallway innocently, like it isn't the most soul crushing sound ever formed. I clench the smooth doorknob in my hand, squeezing my eyes shut._Annabeth, don't do it. Don't do it don't do it don'tdoit don'tdoit don'tdoit. _I chant the phrase in my head, speeding the words along so they blend into one giant word.

"Maybe after dinner, if I'm done with my homework, I'll play." _You did it, you spineless idiot. _I banish all negative thoughts from my mind, peeking over my shoulder to see two gap-tooth smiles and tear free faces. The little bastards were acting the entire time! "Well played, munchkins, well played." I grumble, stalking into my room.

But not before I hear their giggles and Bobby's cry of "Told you it would work!" Or was it Matthew? Their voices sound the same to me, although Bobby has a slight lisp when he speaks, although you only notice it when you are alert and looking for it.

He was teased about it relentlessly, I even witnessed it happen a few weeks ago.

_*Flashback*_

_Percy and I went to go pick the twins up for a special treat (they absolutely adore Percy) and caught an older boy taunting Bobby, mocking his speech. Matthew naturally stuck up for his twin, firing insults with words I had no clue they knew existed. The older boy sneered at Matthew, spitting at his feet. This is when Percy decided to step in, placing a protective hand on Matthew and Bobby' s shoulders._

_"Anything wrong here, gentlemen?" Percy asked as if he had no clue what was going on._

_"Nothin' that concerns you." The boy snarled, showing poorly kept teeth that had to be brushed only twice a year to achieve the shade of yellow they were at._

_"If it concerns Bobby or Matthew, it concerns me." Percy said coolly, measuring up the young boy. He had to be only 10, it would be a quick round if they were to get in a squabble._

_"Need someone else to fight your battles for you?" The bully cruelly cackled at the deep shade of red Bobby turned._

_"If you mess with my brother again I'll grind you into dust!" Matthew struggled against Percy's hand that was firmly clamped on his shoulder. The bully feigned fear, doubling over this time as he continued his horrible laughter._

_"Don't worry 'bout me, Matthew. I'm used to it." Bobby shrugged, wandering over to me. "Can we go get ice cream?" Ha asked as he slipped his gloved hand into mine. He insists he's too old to hold hands anymore- God forbid anyone he knows _seeing_ him holding hands with his sister- but I could tell it was for comfort. I adjusted the woolen hat he had on so his ears were covered._

_I didn't hesitate to say yes, ignoring the arguments forming in my head about how illogical getting ice cream in January was. Percy gave Matthew a piggyback there and promised Bobby one on the way home. I even let them get a ridiculously large sundae, not caring that Bobby's melted into a puddle as he prodded it with his spoon until it was time to leave._

___*Flashback over*_

_I'm used to it. _Bobby's words haunted me the rest of the day, always in the back of my mind. To hear this bright, bubbly eight year old sound so defeated broke a piece of me, and I know it'll never be repaired. The sad thing is, this was true for a lot of people. Far too many go through their day with a constant stream of snide remarks tossed carelessly their way, every one of them hitting its mark.

As I lay down to go to bed today's events replay in my mind, and it seems like a lifetime ago any of those horrors happened. It's truly remarkable how _normal _dinner was compared to the rest of the day. I half expected the twins to sprout antlers or something close to that. But dinner went on as usual, my dad asking us about our day (which I lied about and said was good) then listened to Helen's slightly southern drawl as she complained about a tough job they were working on as she left, claiming that tomorrow she would end up repairing all the damage they inflicted during the overnight shift.

I rolled over, nestling my head into the cool pillow even though I know I'll have hell to pay for it tomorrow.

**~~~(Line Break)~~~**

I really should learn to set my alarm properly before I go to bed, this is the second day in a row I forgot to set it. Thank God my dad realized something was up when I didn't surface at my usual time.

"Annabeth, time to get up." My dad gently shakes me awake, his hand pressed against my lower back until I roll over groaning. Then it rests on my waist. Not nearly as low as the drunks hand did, his hands brushes my ribs, but it still causes my breath to hitch in panic. I swear I can feel the breezy winter air on my cheeks again as I subtly twist my lower body so my father's hand once again resides on my back.

I'm wide awake now, adrenaline coursing through my veins like a poison, chasing every hint of sleepiness away. I face my dad through barely parted eyes, squinting in the bright light from the hallway. A toothbrush is sticking out of his mouth, as crisp white dress shirt with a few buttons in the wrong hole and black dress slacks complete his outfit. His feet are bare, a pair of socks dropped in his lap.

"Annabeth, rise and shine! Time to get ready for school! It's Friday!" Jiggling my knee while he smooths back my hair, a swell of affection breeches my still asleep mind. I smile valiantly at him, pushing myself into a sitting position.

"Dad?" I suck on my bottom lip nervously, wincing when my tooth catches the chapped flesh and strings of dead skin peel off. "I, uh, got asked to go on a date later this evening. And, um, I just wanted you to know so that when he shows up you don't, uh..." I flatten the wrinkles in my bedspread nervously, The pale color a familiar shade of yellow.

"So I don't..." My dad motions for me to get on with it.

"So you don't freak out and slam the door in his face." As you can see I'm really subtle. My dad must think so to for he chuckles at me, getting to his feet and stretching.

"Annabeth, there's no need to worry. I know Percy, he's a nice young man. I give you my blessing." He winks at me, a teasing smile on his toothpaste smudged lips.

"Dad! It isn't Percy who asked me out!" I splutter, choking on my shock. _How on earth did he know about my feelings for Percy? And what made him think Percy returned them?_

"It isn't?" My dad tilts his head in confusion. His eyebrows bunch together, clustering near the top of the bridge of his nose.

"No, it isn't! He and I are just friends- best friends. There is no romantic relationship between us!" I shout frantically, hopping to my feet.

"Okay, okay. I get it. Sorry for upsetting you." My dad's tone is gentle,his brown eyes cautious. "If it isn't Percy, who is it?"

"Luke Castellen, he's captain of the basketball team." I blush slightly at mentioning him, a giddy feeling bouncing around in my gut.

"I don't believe I know him..." He frowns, running the back of his hand along the stubble on his jaw. "Well, you be careful with this boy. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Dad! I'm not going to do _that._ It's just a date." I press the back of my cool fingers to the fierce blush blossoming on my cheeks at his suggestion.

"Mhm. Let's keep it that way. I have to drop the twins off at school, if you are ready in the next five minutes I'll drive you as well." He smiles briefly at me before slipping out of the room. I dash over to the door, sticking my head out into the hallway.

"Asking a teenage girl to get ready in five minutes is like asking a fish to climb a tree. In other words, it's not going to happen!" I hear a distinctly male chuckle from my fathers study, a cramped room with books and toy planes cluttering every wall.

Helen rounds the corner, her black pencil skirt and deep blue blouse enhancing her pretty features. Her straight black hair frames her dainty chin and wide brown eyes perfectly. A pair of dangerously tall heels dangle by their straps from her manicured fingers, a phone wedged between her shoulder and ear.

"No, no, no! Gus, I told you to make sure they fixed it... yes... yes... wait, no. Ugh, I'll be there in fifteen minutes, don't touch anything." Helen ends the call, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. She sees me standing there watching her and gives me a dazzling smile, one that must have been conjured through six cups of coffee, because there is no way anyone could be awake enough at this time in the morning to deliver that smile.

"Morning, Helen." I nod to her as she bustles down the hall.

"Good morning, Annabeth. I hope you realize school starts in half an hour. We wouldn't want you to be late two days in a row." She winks at me, flinging open the door to her and my dad's shared bedroom. I catch a glimpse of clothes scattered all over the floor with shoes placed in every gap. It's the messiest room I have ever seen, and I've seen Percy's room.

"How do you know about yesterday?" I ask, leaning against their door frame.

"Annabeth, I know everything, remember?" I laugh at the old joke from when I was younger. I had asked her for help on homework, and she had explained it with so much ease I was in awe of her ability and told her she knew everything. Sometimes, I think that statement is accurate.

"No, but really, how do you know?" I watch as she pulls on nylons and slips the heels on. Normally I'm a good five inches taller then her but in the heels we were at eye level

"Let's just say that it can be our little secret." She smiles warmly again before teetering out of the room, disappearing into the study for a quick goodbye to my father.

She is avoiding answering my question, but why? All I need a straightforward reply, instead I got one shrouded in riddles and mystery. I love Helen, but sometimes she's a bit strange.

I drift back into my room, yanking clothes out of my closet as I decide what to wear today. I hum distractedly, chewing on my lip as I observe the different combinations of clothing. Once I decide on a plain purple t-shirt with dark blue skinny jeans I change, slipping on my clothing for the day. In a hurry I brush my teeth and hair, throwing the frizzy mop into a high ponytail that is sure to be messy by the end of the day. I scrub my face raw before shoving my feet in my shoes and shrugging on my heavy winter coat.

In the kitchen I throw together a few random foods in my lunch pail, tossing it into my backpack quickly so I can catch up with the males in the family. A thin sheet of sweat covers my face, from the combined heat of the coat I'm wearing and the effort I'm putting into running.

Miracle or miracles, my dad still hasn't left to drop off the twins, they are just a few flights of stairs down. I race over to them, taking the stairs two at a time to reach them. The twins spot me pass them and launch into a run, but I'm almost to the garage. On their short legs Bobby and Matthew struggle to keep pace with me, but they don't stand a chance. I slam a hand down on the hood of the car, panting as I strive to catch my breath.

"I win!" I cheer, swallowing my saliva to ease the pain in my scratchy throat.

"No fair! You got a head start!" Matthew whines, Bobby egging him on.

"Yeah, you're a cheater!" Bobby prods my arm, scowling at it.

"Cheater cheater pumpkin eater!" Matthew chants, with Bobby joining in seconds later.

"Now boys, I know Annabeth wasn't exactly playing fair, but there's no need for name calling." Our father's voice booms from the steps, bouncing off the stone walls so it seems like three of him are talking at once.

"But Dad, she-" Bobby argues, only to get cut off by the very man he's trying to get to listen.

"No buts. Now hop in the car, this little spat has cost us too much time already." He shoos the boys into our tan Ford Fusion, the 2007 model. I clamber into the passenger seat, placing my schoolbag between my feet before I buckle my seat belt.

"Everybody buckled?" Dad, twists in his seat to make sure the twins have actually listened. They have a nasty habit of lying about being strapped in with their seat belt and then bragging for weeks about how they rode to school without one.

"Yes, Dad!" They say at the same time, high fiving each other for their accomplishment.

"Okay, off we go!" We pull out of the dim garage and into the standstill of New York traffic.

The five minute drive to school is as eventful as you can imagine, which means it was filled with the boys bickering while dad shouts at them to settle down. He isn't very intimidating or disciplinary so the twins completely ignore his request, although that's not unusual.

We pull out of the traffic and stop in front of the school building, where students are climbing out of similar cars and trudging into the judgmental environment. I exhale deeply as I gather my bag in my arms, positioning the strap so that I can swing the heavy bag onto my back when I step out.

"Bye, guys! See you tonight." Unfolding my tall frame out of the cramped confinement, I observe as others trundle past with dragging feet matched half awake expressions. It looks like the morning batch of coffee didn't quite do the trick today.

I catch a whiff of an overbearing amount of cologne before fingers wrap around my eyes, only allowing me to see black. My spine stiffens and bile rises up in my throat, alarm shoots through me and my instinct is to fight to get free.

"Guess who." A voice taunts, so clearly Luke that I have no clue why I guess who I do.

"Is it Percy?" I ask, tapping my chin as if deep in thought.

"No, guess again." Hot breath blows on my ear, sending a shiver of remembrance through me, a different day with a different man and yet I still can't get a handle on things.

"Is it... Piper?" I pretend to wonder, trying to keep up the playful facade.

"Nope, one more guess." Their palms are moist with sweat which feels disgusting against my eyelids.

"Is it... Luke?" I suggest, winning back my ability to see.

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" Luke flashes his brilliant white teeth that are perfectly straight.

"What's my prize?" I question, shuffling on the ice covering the concrete sidewalk. Luke sets a steady hand on my waist, it's meant to be comforting but all I can think about is the drunk in the ally. My breath hitches, and I decide my best option is to take a miniscule sidestep so his hand flops to his side.

"Annabeth?" Luke asks, his light blond eyebrows puckering in confusion.

"I don't like it when people touch me. It- I just don't like it." I whisper, my gaze frozen on the chunk of ice near my toes. It's small, about the size of a baby's fist and a greyish color from all the dirt collected in it.

"Oh, I didn't know..." He gives my body a once over, not in the creepy way the drunk did but as if checking for something. _He thinks you're being abused, dummy!_

"And it's not that I'm abused or anything like that, I'm just uncomfortable with physical contact." I rush to explain, my breath fogging up the air.

"Okay." Luke nods, but his eyes scream that he doesn't believe me.

"We should really get to class." I interrupt his thoughts, taking off at a brisk pace to get into the square building that serves as our school. Stumbling as he tries to catch up, Luke looks like anything but the graceful athlete he supposedly is. A few people snicker as he passes, one even reaches out and slaps him on the back.

"Nice save, Grace." The boy says and I recognize him as Ethan Nakamura, another basketball player.

"Shut up, asshole." Luke mutters, brushing off Ethan who just smirks. Luke follows me to my locker, leaning casually against the one next to mine. "So I have an idea for our date tonight, but I wanted to run it by you to see if it would be fun for you as well."

Running a nervous hand through his hair Luke patiently waits for me to answer. My locker sticks slightly as I pull it open due to the fact that today's secret admirer note is wedged between the door and wall. It tumbles to the ground, sliding to a stop at the toe of Luke's right shoe. I anxiously watch as he bends over to pick it up, examining the blank envelope.

"I believe this is yours." He hands it to me, tightly smiling as his eyes drill holes into the paper.

"Thanks." I breath, jamming the note into my backpack. I'll read it later, when I'm getting ready for tonight most likely. I clear my throat awkwardly, tugging self-consciously at the hem of my jacket. "So, this date..."

"Oh, yes! Well, you know Ethan, right?" He gratefully changes the subject, nodding toward the huddle of well known athletes.

"The asshole?" I ask, receiving a boisterous laugh from Luke.

"Yeah, the asshole. Well, his parents are away for the weekend so he's hosting a party. I was wondering if you would want to go..."

I've never been to one of those types of parties, one where the parents were unaware of the hoards of high schoolers crashing around their house. I've heard about them and all the crazy things that happen at them, more often then not the cops are called to smother out the fun. If I'm being honest I don't want to go, but Luke looks so eager for a yes I cave in to his wish.

"I-I would love to." I stumble over the lie, uneasy with the whole thing.

"That's great! I'll still pick you up at seven, okay?" He ducks his head so we're the same height.

"Okay." I twitch the corners of my mouth into a smile, praying he'll leave now. It's nothing personal, it's just that around him my stomach twists into knots and I have trouble forming clear sentences. _Oh God, this is how it started with Percy, _my instinct is to flee, get as far away as possible to avoid the tsunami of dread crashing down on me.

"Well, see you later then." He adjusts his bag once before weaving his way through the hallway, greeting a few people as he passes.

After a few more seconds in La-la-land I tug at my textbooks, organizing them in order of my classes. The warning bell rings, alerting us to the fact that there is only one more minute until class begins.

"Shit." I curse, messily gathering everything I need for math before trotting to the classroom. I shuffle down the aisle, muttering a quick "Good morning" to Percy. I don't know why I do it, habit is my guess, but it's what he replies that causes my blood to boil.

"Not anymore." He grumbles, keeping his attention glued to the partly finished homework laying on his desk.

Chris looks up in alarm at our exchange, catching my eye and signaling between Percy and I.

'What's up with you two?' He mouths and I shake my head. Whatever feud Percy and I are having is no one else's business.

The monotone bell rings through the classroom, sending people hurrying to their desks, me included. I land roughly on the worn blue plastic, feeling spikes of pain shoot through my lower back. _That's going to leave a bruise,_ I wince at the thought of a dark blue splotch on my backside. The teacher waddles in, a second person standing beside her. She claps her hands together our attention, something unneeded because we are already staring at her.

The boy next to her- it can't be. There is no possible way it's him.

"We have a new student, class." She gestures to the familiar boy next to her. His eyes drift across the crowd of Juniors, landing on me. Warm brown eyes glittering with shock and delight. It _is _him. "Why don't you introduce yourself."

The boy leans forward on his crutches, acting like their an extension of his arms. He launches a grin my way before speaking.

"My name's Grover. Grover Underwood."

**Dun dun dun! Yeah, that was probably pretty predictable... So, once again I apologize for the wait. This chapter was written in two days, which is why it's pretty bad compared to the others. Thank you times a billion for all the favorites, follows, and reviews!**

**What's your thought on this chapter? Tell me in a review!**


	6. Chapter 5

**You guys are the best people ever! I hit 100 followers for this story, a first for all the stories I've written! So, thank you all!**

**WARNING: This chapter has a lot of swearing in it compared to the other ones.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson series. Or Legend by Marie Lu.  
**

The oblivious blonde who serves as our math teacher chirps endlessly about '_just how nice it is to have a new student, isn't that right class?' _and '_how lovely it would be if we could all support Grover while he transitions.' _I'm honestly debating on whether or not to stab my pencil in my eye to get out of listening to her fawn over him when she concludes her stream of compliments and not-so-subtle hints. She ushers Grover to a desk in the front, clamping her hands tightly before her chest as she watches Grover smoothly make the transition between standing and sitting.

Mrs. Thompson then commences to snap back to her no nonsense persona, instructing us to place our homework on our desk so we could go over it together. A short-lived twinge of sympathy for Percy swallows most of my emotional capacity until the realization of what he said to me yesterday hits me again. Then a certain smugness conquers all of my sympathy, generating a smirk as I stare at the back of his head, the familiar shade of black drawing only a sour purse to my lips. _Screw Percy, he had no right to talk to me like that. I don't know why I wasted as much time on him as I did._

_"_Sh- I mean oops. I seem to have forgotten to print copies of tonight's homework." Mrs. Thompson scratches a thin eyebrow, her beady eyes examining her desk.

"No homework!" Someone calls from the back of the room, shouts of joy ringing through the room.

"Not necessarily, Mr. Solace. I think I'll trust you guys enough to be alone while I quickly go copy the sheet." She plucks the paper from her desk, sweeping the classroom once more with her best menacing glare before flouncing out of the room.

I review my answers once more, waiting for her to return with the stack of papers brandished proudly. A quick scuffle of feet as people bolt to their friends is scattered throughout the class, Chris being one of the bolters. A throat clears causing me to glance up.

It's Percy, anger smoldering in his eyes. He chucks something at me, the object smacking against my collarbone.

"How many boys are you screwing? I never took you for a slut, Chase. Then again, I never took you for a liar either." Percy spits the words at me, a lip curling back. The familiar expression brings life to the ghost of fingers that seem to live permanently on my waist.

"Shut the hell up, Jackson. I told you the truth, but you're too much of an idiot to understand that." I snarl, fighting against the shudder my spine is threatening as the fingers creep closer to my waistband.

It's really hard to keep a calm composure while you feel like your about to get raped by hands that don't even exist. It's especially hard when half the class is staring at you like you just sprouted a third hand from your stomach.

"Like I'm about to believe you. Honestly, tell me what you were doing in that computer lab if the purpose wasn't to make goo-goo eyes at Castellen." Percy's nostrils flair in challenge, thinking he has my back against the wall.

"I told you, Perseus, I was meeting with a few friends." I narrow my eyes at him momentarily before unfolding the scrap of paper he threw my way. A deep growl ensues from Percy's direction at the use of the entirety of his first name, but I ignore his primal form of protest and continue with the note.

'_We need to talk. After class.' _it reads in an unfamiliar boyish scrawl. I glance up in confusion, my eyes meeting Grover's warm brown ones. I nod my head once, agreeing with his request. He flashes me a thumbs up before twisting around in his seat, narrowly missing the dirty look Percy sends his way.

The door handle jiggles as someone struggles to realize the door is locked. Students launch themselves back into their seat, smoothing articles of clothing and plastering bored expressions on their nervous faces. Percy graciously opens the door, allowing the flustered woman who serves as our math teacher hustle pass him, sparing a second to mutter her appreciation over her shoulder.

"Now, class, I would like to remind you that even though I'm not in the room, you should keep quiet and remain in your seats." She slams down the stack of light pink paper on Clarisse's desk, who was dozing off. The bulky girl jumps in her seat, a startled cry persuading a few people to giggle. "I was stopped by not one, not two, but _three_ teachers on my way back. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

The class remains silent, blank stares the only answer she gets. Sighing in frustration mingled with disappointment she runs a hand through the stringy bleach blonde locks topping her head.

"You guys are almost seniors, you should at least know when to shut your traps." A stern finger wave is sent our way, the knobs of her pale knuckles sticking sharply out.

"Are you allowed to speak to us that way?" Challenges Drew from the back row. She's a cheerleader, very well known throughout the school. I avoid crossing her path at all costs.

"I'm allowed to speak to you in any way I see fit." Mrs. Thompson's pointy nose protrudes farther in the air then ever before.

"That's not what my father says." Drew crosses her arms over her chest which displays a generous amount of skin. Drew's father is president of the school board, which she just _loves_ to boast about. I don't get why she it so proud about that fact, having your parents be on the school board became an embarrassment after third grade, but that rule doesn't seem to apply to Drew. Just like every other rule imaginable.

"Well, I'm sorry but your father isn't a teacher, is he?" Mrs. Thompson retaliates. Drew purses her lips, a sign that she plans on blabbing about this little exchange to her parents that evening. "Now, if we have could _please_ get back to doing _math _I think we would all find it very productive."

I have to admit, Mrs. Thompson doesn't take shit from anybody, and that's pretty cool.

"So, while I was gone, how many of you copied from others?" She paces the front of the classroom, flashing us a wicked smile. A hesitant laughter travels through the crowd. "I thought so. Will, what is the answer to number 12?" She points to her victim, who promptly recites the right answer. "Good, now Drew, could you tell us what the answer to number four is, please."

She continues on with this method, substituting the right answer in when needed. She does this every Friday, it's like a game we have. And it calms me down, a slight smile on my face when I answer correctly. It's reassuring to know that I'll always have these Friday homework sessions. Well, at least for the next few months, then it's summer, but that's a whole other ball game.

"And that, people, is how we check our homework." Mrs. Thompson grins at us, and a polite sprinkle of applause breaks out throughout the room.

**~~~(Line Break)~~~**

Of course, the peace doesn't last long, because why would it?

As soon as class ends I spring up out of my chair, dragging Grover out of the classroom and into a deserted classroom.

"Why are you here?" I hiss, even though there is a heavy metal door between us and the rest of the student body.

"I transferred. I just moved to New York, I live with my uncle now. Why are _you _here?" He asks, leaning against a forgotten desk.

"I've always gone here. Why'd you move?" I question, fed up with the small talk. I tug anxiously at a curl, twisting it so tightly around my finger that it starts to tingle from blood loss.

"Family issues." He mutters, squirming under my gaze. A pregnant pause fills the air, both of us uncomfortable. He raps his knuckles against the desk in an unfamiliar pattern, a whiny hum escaping his throat. It screeches against my ears, causing me to release the mounting irritation within me.

"I guess I could show you around." I tell him, plucking his schedule from on top of his folder. He stops his little song and observes me through long lashes, bashful in a way. I guess saving someone kinda was a spur of the moment thing. I observe the list of classes, nodding when I see we have English and lunch together. "We have next hour together, but after that I can't show you around, I have classes of my own."

Slapping down the paper I tilt my head to the side. Now normally I'm a bit reserved when it comes to speaking to strangers, but having him save me is not your everyday kind of thing. So at some point you have to go fuck it and just go all in.

"Thanks for knocking that man down. I feel like I should be your slave or something." I joke, nudging his shoulder with my palm.

"You don't have to be my slave, but you can be my friend." He smoothes his shaggy hair away from his eyes.

"Deal. Now, friend, shall we head to English? I bet it'll take three minutes until Mr. Jacobson's knees start to wobble." Grover bobs his head, adjusting his weight so it's resting on his crutches. His lean frame sways slightly as he tries to pick up the hefty math book and collection of papers they gave him to help him blend into the rest of the school. I scoop them up, my arms drooping lower as the added weight forces my arms to adjust.

"You don't need to do that, I can carry them myself." He grumbles, reaching out to swipe them back.

"No way. I am trying to build up my arm strength and I am _not _going to let you take that victory away from me. Besides, we are going to be late anyway, might as well have a reason other then my savior showed up at my school and now I'm his slave." I wave off his protest, leading him out of the door.

The crowd has started to thin, people escaping into their proper classroom after lingering conversations.

Soon the pulsing beats of the minute bell reverberates through the stony halls, sending panicked students scrambling to get to class on time. Grover and I contradict their worked up emotions and stroll calmly to his locker. He fumbles with the combination for a few seconds before an intense blush spreads on his cheeks.

"Could you, uh, tell me my combination?" He asks, his eyes traveling somewhere over my shoulder.

"Sure. It's 45-27-06." I repeat the numbers slowly, cheering when the two pops and squeaking of hinges show he entered it in correctly."

"Thanks." He mumbles, gripping his thick math textbook by it's spine, balancing it on the shelf claiming the top part of his locker. He piles tonight's homework on top of it, and I catch a glimpse of a limp backpack strung on one of the hooks, the laminated surface of a book catching my eye.

"What book are you reading?" I ask, startling him. His head sharply snaps up, a ghost of a smile tracing his lips.

"You scared me." He breathes.

"I noticed." I tease, rolling my eyes at how obvious he is, just like- _stop. Don't go there, Annabeth._

"I'm reading Legend by Marie Lu. It's... strange. The death of the brother was really sudden, but other then that it's fairly good." He slams the metal door shut, and we travel to my locker, nearly jogging.

"You better not have spoiled it for me, I was going to read that." I jerk my locker open, swiftly swapping out the solid math book and folder for the desired material.

"I would never. It's in the description on the back cover." We race to English class, Mr. Jacobson is shutting the door just as we round the corner.

"Wait! Mr. Johnson, keep the door open!" I shout at him, and he squeaks in reply. I bolt forward, jamming the toe of my shoe into the door frame. "Thanks, Mr. J. I was just showing my new friend Grover around, and the time got away from us."

He nods frantically, his lip quivering slightly. I don't understand why he took a job with high schoolers if he's terrified of us. His 5 foot tall stance and wiry build cause us to dwarf him, and his voice is high which is another thing students love to pick on.

Grover is puffing for breath by the time he reaches us, and he weakly waves at the teacher.

"Wow, you are out of shape." I mutter, pushing the door back so he can squeeze through.

"Ms. Chase! That wasn't very nice of you to say!" Mr. Jacobson chastises, wagging a finger at me. _Why do adults do that so often? Why are they always pointing fingers?_

"It's fine, Sir. She was just joking around." Grover defends me, loitering near the door.

"Oh, all right then. But don't let me hear that again." His thin brown hair resembles mud, matching the shade of his eyes perfectly. A single chunk stands up on the side of his head and I stare at it.

"Yes, Mr. Jacobson." I release the door and follow them into the classroom.

"Class, today a new student will be joining us." His tiny voice is barely a whisper against the noise the crowd is making.

"Hey!" I shout, trying to return to Mr. Jacobson's good side by aiding him. Nada, the conversations still go on. Quite loudly, might I add.

"Can I try?" Grover says, leaning toward my ear to be heard.

"Be my guest." I gesture for him to go on. He nods, slipping a forearm out of his crutch. He raises two fingers to his lips, letting out an ear-splitting whistle. Every conversation in the room halts, big-eyed students turn toward the front. A few jaws are hanging down, evidently they think it was our quiet teacher who is the culprit of the whistle.

"Hi, I'm Grover. I'm new, and already have my own slave. Where do I sit?" He gives everyone a brilliant smile while I stand on the sidelines choking on laughter. A nervous titter circles the room, a few people flash him a smile back.

"You can sit at our table." Jason calls, dragging an unused desk over to our cluster and placing it at the end of our table.

"Come, slave. Do my bidding." He snaps his fingers at me twice before pointing to the table.

"Yes, master." I reply sarcastically, adjusting our things so they balance higher on my hip. People adjust their legs so they no longer hang out in the aisle but are instead folded under their desk.

"Thank you, Mr..." Mr. Jacobson nervously wrings his pale wrists, scratching his arm briefly before returning back to the circular motion. His dress shirt looks three sizes too big, and the cuffs of his dress slacks are rolled up so you can see a hideous pair of grey socks peeking out from under them.

"Underwood." Grover supplies, getting a grateful nod from Mr. Jacobson who settles his hands to his side.

"Of course. Thank you, Mr. Underwood, for helping quiet down your new classmates. I hope you'll all be very polite to Grover as he settles in." The teachers voice breaks and he coughs into a tightly clenched fist. Pink tints his cheeks, making him look slightly less like a corpse and more like a living human.

A few well placed giggles deepen the color, and a loud shush from somewhere near the front smothers them all out.

"As I was saying, I want you all to treat Grover with respect. I know this is New York and you all think you're tough, but the truth is you all are a bunch of softies who enjoy drama too much. Now, can anyone tell me why Shakespeare is remembered so well?"

As the class commenced just about everyone in the class has the audacity to send notes my way with just about the same question written on it. '_What's with you and the new kid?' _A few slut comments were thrown in, and a couple jealous remarks were tossed into the mix as well, but it was pretty clear what the essential question was. What is up with Grover and I?

Obviously we are just friends, I have a date with Luke tonight after all, but do they know that? No. How would they, it hasn't even been a day since we became whatever we are. So their suspicions can't really be written off as unobservent, they can see that the dynamic of our relationship is close to how Percy and I act- used to act around each other. And if what he said was true, half the school thought we were dating, so it's possible they think I'm cheating on Percy. Well, anyone with eyes and ears could see that Percy and I aren't exactly speaking to each other- at least not like any civil human would.

So maybe the rumors about my relationship with Percy will be put to rest, only for a new one to take its place. After all, what kind of girl gets this much attention from boys throughout guiding them something in return? I _can't possibly _be just friends with them, can I? So by the end of the day the label of slut will be covering teachers pet- and hopefully this one will peel off soon.

**~~~(Line Break)~~~**

Lunch, it's a nightmare. There are many things they lie to you about in books, the constant stream of romance is one. The second is the obvious lines between the group's and their statuses- really it's just a potluck of teenagers where only a few are more well known, but other then that people generally are all the same. Third is that there is always a happy ending.

But the lunchroom they describe in their stories resembles how it really goes down. The jocks sit in huddled circles, shoving and joking while nearby cheerleaders pick at wilted salads and complain about the noise. A few lesser known athletes are sprinkled throughout the next few tables, laughing and tossing food at each other. The last few rows were taken up by a few tight knit circles of friends, except for a couple of the tables in the back which were reserved for the select few who preferred to eat alone or stick their nose in a book instead of socialize.

Of course, after the first few weeks of school you understand where you sit and you stay there. Now whenever friends have spats there is usually a stare off to see who switches tables. And that's what I dread most, having to challenge Percy and look into those green eyes that despise me and know I'm going to lose. Because the color green that takes hold of his eyes will bring back a million moments from our childhood, dozens of scraped knees and thousands of tears, along with a billion laughs and hundreds of sleepless nights. Everything that's shaped me as a person has happened with those green eyes and their owner. You just can't hate someone like that, no matter how hard to try. But their eyes are negotiable, even if they send beams of light coursing through your body at an alarming rate.

But it sure makes it a hell of a lot harder.

Now of course, if Percy's spot was taken before he arrived, that would be a shame, but since our table is full he would have to move somewhere else. I'm pretty sure we both know where I'm going with this.

So after gym I slip on my normal clothes as quickly as I can, doing the little dance with my skinny jeans. I roughly shove my shoes on, pulling the back up and bolting toward the cafeteria.

I had taken my lunch with me to gym to save me the trip that have been necessary if I had left the paper bag in my locker. Now the bag crinkled in my firm grasp, the contents shifting as I swung it back and my long legs it was easy to move swiftly and still look like I was casually strolling through the hallway, so no teachers stop me and demand to know why I was seconds away from running to lunch.

I reach the cafeteria in record timing, flopping down onto my regular seat and retrieving items from the wrinkled brown bag before me. Not a minute later does Grover show up, awkwardly folding his frame into the small seat and balancing science books on top of that. I lift them off of his arms, setting them in the middle of the table where books usually rest.

"Thanks, Annabeth." He sighs gratefully, plopping down onto the blue plastic chair. He shuffles around his arm so it's loose from the crutch, brandishing a brand new lunch pail.

"Fancy." I joke as I tear into my sandwich, removing one half of it and holding it out for Grover. "Wanna trade? Half of my sandwich for half of yours?"

"Classy. Real classy." A mutter comes from behind us. A large shadow is cast over our lunches, causing both of us to turn our bodies around to see who it is. And of course it's Percy.

"Excuse me?" I ask in a fake friendly tone.

"You're just so..." He struggles to find the right word, switching the hand his lunch bag rests in.

"Just so what?" I snap, all pretenses of friendliness disappearing.

"So infuriatingly stubborn, and predictable." He narrows his eyes at Grover, and I feel like any second he'll be licking his chops. "Move."

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't know this was your spot. I-I'll just leave." Grover gathers all the food he removed from his bag, dropping them back into the solid blue lunch pail and grasping for his crutches.

"Oh that's just gold. You did this on purpose, didn't you? You're trying to make me look bad. Well guess what, it won't work on me. Keep your spot, but I wouldn't get to cocky if I were you. She'll move on to the next charity project by tomorrow." Percy sneers at Grover, stalking off to a nearby table where the bookworms sit.

"What was that all about?" Grover inquires, peering over at the brooding sixteen year old known as Percy.

"Nothing." I brush off his concern, taking a large bit of my sandwich, which might as well be real sand for how dry my mouth feels. The conversation stalls until the others find their seat, introducing themselves to Grover.

No one mentions that Percy sits one table away or that he can probably hear our exchange clear as day. No one mentions the fact that Grover is sitting in Percy's spot, or that every once in a while Percy'll shoot a glare our way, but only when I'm looking. No one mentions Percy, period.

**~~~(Line Break)~~~**

What do girls wear on dates anyway? I mean, there's your classic ten pounds of make-up and slinky dress, but there's no way on heaven and earth I'm wearing that. There's the jeans and t-shirt variety, which is probably the route I'm going to go.

After a few more minutes of indecision I mean up my mind, and, true to my word, I settle for my favorite pair of jeans and a casual t-shirt that has a swirling design in white on the powdery blue fabric.

Satisfied with my choice I drag my backpack out from the corner of my room and set it on my desk, gently placing its contents in piles organized by subject. After the four piles are made (math homework, English homework, Chemistry homework, and Econ homework) I reach my arm into the mostly hollow bag, my fingers wrestling with the slippery envelope from this morning.

Eventually I get a hold of it, even if it is slightly wrinkled from our brief match and from getting hauled home. I glide over to my bed, not picking up my sock covered feet from the dingy carpet in my covering the floor of my room.

I lightly sit on the unmade bed spread, holding my breath as I tear the corner of the envelope, peeling back a strand of thin white paper.

A sharp knock on my door causes me to give a short lived shriek, stuffing the object in my hands under my pillow.

"Annabeth! Are you almost ready? It's seven in a few minutes!" Helen calls through the door.

"I'll be ready in five minutes! Just stall Luke if he arrives early!" I instruct her, breathing a sigh of relief when she leaves.

I toss my pillow to the foot of my bed,gingerly fingering the creased papers. _It's now or never, Annabeth. _I tell myself, and yank out the printer paper.

When I unfold it, I'm not greeted with what I expected. Instead of the tidy writing that usually takes up the page there's a few misshapen words in black pen. The five words take up the entire page, and all the letters are capitalized. I read them once, and then again, and again, and again.

Five words aren't too hard to commit to memory, and I had memorized it the first time I read it. But normally I don't see the note blazing underneath my eyelids every time I blink.

Another sequence of taps on the door startle me, my fingers releasing the paper hosting the angry words.

"Annabeth! He's here!" My dad shouts through the door.

"Okay, just give me thirty more seconds!" I fold up the note, dropping it on top of the pile where the others are. I swipe my jacket off of the back of my chair, and dash toward my door.

I breathlessly race down the hall, smiling warmly at Luke when I see him standing awkwardly by the door, Helen chatting up a storm with him. I place a hand on her shoulder and she stops speaking.

"Thanks, Helen, but we better get going." She nods, her dazzling smile slightly blinding.

"Okay, dear. Be smart, I want you home sober and still in possession of you're V card." She smoothes down a curl, giggling slightly at my mortified expression.

"Helen!" I squeak, my face growing hot.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Chase, I'll make sure she comes home safely." Luke says in a dead serious tone.

"Good boy. And please, call me Helen." She smiles fondly at him before practically shoving us out the door.

"That was totally embarrassing! I understand if you never want to see me again." I groan, leaning my forehead against the wall outside our apartment. Not the most sanitary of moves, I'll admit that.

"Don't be silly, of _course _I want to see you again. Besides, your parents seem really cool." Luke reasons patiently.

The words from the note drift back into my mind, but I blow them off.

"Are you sure about that?" I peek at him and he laughs.

"One hundred percent." He states firmly. "Now come on, we have a party to attend."

Once again the line from the letter haunts my vision. The large, wobbly letters reading _I AM NOT LUKE CASTELLEN _flashing like a neon sign.

The only problem is, I no longer care.

**Hey guys! So I think this will be my usual time in between chapters, somewhere around one to two weeks. I would love to post more frequently, but my school just loves to assign homework and I'm really lazy. And these chapters take a while to write, so I guess slow updates is how it's going to happen. I kind of hate this chapter, nothing happens in it! So sorry for the filler, but the next chapter will have a lot of things going on at once.**

**On a scale of one to ten (****Ten being that you think it's utter perfection and one being that I should never write again.), **what would you give this chapter? This story? 


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson series. Or Harry Potter. But I do own Aaron!  
**

The rhythmic pounding of music causes the ground to quiver as we approach the party. Ethan lives a few miles from the busiest parts of New York, meaning his backyard isn't rolling hills but there's quite a bit of green surrounding the tightly packed houses. These compact buildings are all very spending, so very few can afford them.

Luke pulls over to the side of the road, easing the car as close to the curb as he can manage. He puts the sleek maroon car he drives into park, popping the door open and hurrying to open mine.

"I'm perfectly capable of opening my own door, Luke." I chastise him, stretching as I release myself from the cramped interior of the car.

"That doesn't mean I can't be a gentlemen and open the door for you." He leads me down the street, the number of cars greatly increasing as well as the number of footprints in the fresh powder that fell while we were at school.

"It's the twenty first century, you are no longer obligated to wait on me hand and foot." I argue back, curling my toes which are stiff from cold. Vibrations well up in my chest as we come nearer to where the party is being held. The pounding now has screeching vocals acting as background music to it.

"Does this mean Dobby is a free elf?" Luke inquired, chuckling at my blown away expression.

"Y- you're a P-potterhead." I stumble on my words, dazzling him with my stunning articulation.

"Who isn't these days?" Luke grins, a perfectly even smile so unlike...

"Those who aren't have not learned what it means to live." I tell him, reminding myself that I'm on a date with _Luke _and I will _not_ mess it up by thinking of _Percy._

"That's pure poetry, Annie." Luke winks at me, a blush working its way onto my cold cheeks.

"Please, just Annabeth." I avoid his gaze, stomping the clusters of snowflakes off the tips of my shoes as we wind our way up the driveway and to the front door.

"Sorry, just Annabeth." A teasing twinkle glints in his blue eyes as he reaches in front of me to wedge the door open. He has to yell in my ear to be heard over the sudden a swell of noise. "The door, it sticks."

"Okay." I shout back, my lips accidentally bumping his ear as he tries to maneuver past me.

He beckons for me to follow him, linking his hand with mine so we don't get separated. The air is heavy with the scent of smoke and perspiration. High schoolers are packed into every inch of the place, the seats holding three times the amount of weight they were designed to. Girls are wearing shorts so small you'd think it was summer, while boys lounge around in beaters. They must have been to this type of party before, because even though I've been here for all of three minutes I'm already sweating like a pig in my light jacket (I left the winter one at home) and jeans. The lights are dim, a hazy blurriness to the scene as smoke pilfers what little breathable oxygen there is left.

An elaborate sound system is set up, the volume cranked up to the max. People are huddled near the stereo, doing what counts as dancing these days. Luke gave these people a wide berth, wrinkling his nose at their suggestive moves. My laughter is drowned out by the music, a new song declaring the artist's ex a ruthless bastard. These people do not take getting dumped lightly.

An empty space by the wall comes into view, and Luke moves with a little more urgency when he spots it. When we claim it he draws me against the wall. A nervous itch starts at the base of my spine as he leans closer.

"I'm going get us something to drink!" He shouts in my ear. I nod, trying to keep my relief to myself. All the noise and people are setting me on edge, the air is clogged with their scent and the heavy smoke of cigarettes being lit and inhaled in the next room. My lungs refuse to inhale the rancid concoction, panic mounting as my lungs cry out for air.

Luke appears through a part in the crowd, holding two plastic cups by their rims. Before he has time to speak I snatch the cup from his left hand, gulping the liquid greedily. It burns my throat, but in a good way. The kind that makes me want more, to drink this by the gallon.

"Annabeth! Stop!" Luke cries out, swiping the cup out of my grasp. A bit sloshed out, splattering onto the hardwood floor. "Annabeth, that was my drink!"

"So?" I question, suppressing a burp. I giggle, relaxing back against the wall.

"So, it had alcohol in it. I'm supposed to bring you home sober, instead you're drunk as a skunk." Luke frets, pacing the two foot gap between us and the other couples who are, um, _enthusiastically _shoving their tongues down each others throats.

"And that's bad? C'mon Luke, live a little, we're teenagers. Getting drunk is in the job description." I can feel my words starting to slur together, and everything has a detached edge to it, corners smudging away and transforming to the shade of watercolors only achieved if it's three fourths water.

"Annabeth, that's not in _your _job description." He tugs me off the wall, wrapping his sturdy fingers around my dainty wrists. "Come with me."

"'Kay." I happily oblige, practically skipping as he guides me through the kitchen and out the back door. A cracked patio serves as the ground once we break free of the crowd.

"Annabeth, I need you to focus. Can you do that?" Luke shakes my shoulders slightly, leaning back so we are at eye level.

A chilly breeze fiddles with the light jacket I threw on, a leather number Piper forced me to by on a shopping-spree that I had no interest in participating in. It caresses my cheeks, whispering in my ears. _Percy. Percy._

"Percy." I mutter, my eyes unfocused. My balance drops to my feet and I start to sway slightly, trying to keep in time with the breeze.

"What? What'd you say?" Luke's grip is uncomfortably tight, and the cold is starting to seep into my bones, chilling my core and sobering me up a little.

"Nothing, I was just babbling." My teeth chatter loudly, sounding like a jackhammer in my mind. Without my eardrums feeling like they are going to burst from the intensity of the music the night seems oddly silent.

"How are you feeling?" Luke asks, placing his jacket over my shoulders.

"Strange. Everything's a bit blurry, and I don't exactly feel like my balance is reliable, but I can think clearly." I test my feet to see if they'll hold me. I wobble a bit, my body tipping to the right a bit. I spread my legs farther apart, spreading my stance from narrow to wide. Luke chews his bottom lip worriedly, running his hands along the goosebumps on his arms in a feeble attempt to warm up.

"Annabeth?" Luke turns away, gazing at the streetcars highlighting the glittery snow drifting about in the air. "Is it true, what Percy was saying about you and Grover?"

"What was he saying?" I prod, feeling my cheeks flush and stomach tie itself into knots.

"That you and Grover... _you know_." He shrugs helplessly, stuffing his hands in the tight pockets of his jeans.

"Luke, Percy's out of his mind if he thinks I view Grover in that way." I flex my jaw, a slow ache spreading throughout it.

"That's what I told him. He didn't seem to like that too much." Luke chuckles softly, rubbing his palm against the gelled spikes of his hair.

"You're going to get yourself killed." I smile fondly, tugging the jacket tighter around my shoulders.

The back door squeaks open, a high pitched giggle following it closely behind. Luke glances over my shoulder, his expression closing off. I twist around to see Drew with her arm linked through... Percy's?

"Percy?" I ask, barely conscious of the fact that my jaw has gone slack.

"Oh... Hi, Annabeth." He doesn't meet my eyes, but instead exchanges glares with Luke, who possessively puts an arm around my shoulder.

"Jackson." Luke mutters with an edge in his voice.

"Castellen." Percy clenches his jaw.

"Boys." I mutter, rolling my eyes.

"How's it going, Chase? Is Crutches a good screw?" Drew snaps her gum, giggling wildly.

"Drew, there's no need for that." Percy says quietly, so softly I'm not certain if he said it or if I was just imagining things.

"But Percy, you're the one who told me she was-" Drew's nasally voice gets cut off my Luke's deep one.

"Yeah? Well, he was wrong."

"How do you know? It's not like she tells you everything." Percy's voice is hushed, his head bent.

"It's not like she tells you everything either." Luke shoots back, a nasty curl to his lip.

"Luke..." I mutter, touching his waist to grab his attention, but he ignores me completely.

"You aren't her best friend." Percy shoots back, a challenging tilt to his chin.

"You aren't either." Luke snarls.

"Luke!" I shout, desperate for him to notice me. Again, he pays me no attention.

"Did she tell you that? Did she tell you we aren't best friends anymore?" I catch tears sparkling in Percy's eyes, his face pinched in an effort to keep them at bay. "Do you want to know why? It's because of you. Because of you meeting her in the computer lab behind my back when she told me it was girls only."

"I didn't meet her there, Jackson. I was looking for her after school, but when I didn't see her walking home I checked indoors. I ran into Rachel, who I know is friends with Annabeth, so I asked her where she was. Rachel said she was in the computer lab, that's how I found her." Luke stumbles forward, poking a finger into Percy's chest. The scene is almost comical, with Percy being three inches taller then Luke and looking like he's moments away from losing his temper while Luke is all wide gestures and harsh words. "What do you have to say for yourself now, you bastard?"

"Luke!" I charge forward, yanking his arm back. Now he's forced to make eye contact with me, and what I see isn't pretty. His face is flushed from anger, eyes twinkling with the thrill of getting in a good insult. His whole body seems to radiate adrenaline, and his nostrils are flared unnaturally wide. He looks like a monster, plain and simple. "Go. I don't want to see you again."

"B-but, Annabeth!" He splutters, and it seems like it has finally dawned on him that he crossed the line.

"_GO_!" I shriek, shoving his shoulders. He stumbles backwards, his breathing shallow.

"Annabeth, look I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said those things-" He's panicking. He's trying to do damage control.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." I state softly, tearing my eyes away from Luke long enough to see the startled look on Percy's face. "I think it would be best if you left."

"But Annabeth, please!" Luke's practically begging. He firmly places his hands on my shoulders, roughly turning me toward him. My breath catches in my throat, the imaginary fingers sliding down my waist.

I jump back, falling off the concrete patio and landing on my butt in the snow. Luke is aghast, his mouth dangling open.

"Why don't you like people touching you?" He murmurs, not making any indication he's going to help me up.

"That's personal." I mutter, fat tears welling up in my eyes.

"You can tell me anything, Annabeth." He insists. The cold snow is seeping into my pants, slowly numbing the entirety of my legs.

"Luke, you're off your rocker. I told you to get lost." I force the crude words to be spoken, scraping my tongue with my teeth in an effort to get the bad taste they leave in my mouth out. "And take Drew with you. Percy and I need to talk." A mangled cry of protest spills out of Luke's throat and into the chilly air. "Please."

"I... fine. But I don't think we should continue on this date any longer." Luke clenches his jaw, glaring at the stars.

"Okay." I whisper. Their retreating footsteps tell me all I need to know.

"Why'd you do it?" Percy asks, his voice shockingly loud.

"Do what?" I wonder, clumping together snow in my fist. The cold water melting off of it drips through my fingers.

"Defend me when I've been such a jackass to you?" He clears his throat uncomfortably.

"Best friends forever, right?" I give him an ironic smile, his dark chuckle echoing my thoughts.

"Well, thanks." He says briefly, holding out a hand to help me up. I slip my hand into his warm ones, allowing him to assist me before dusting off the remaining snow from my jeans which are stiff with cold.

"No problem. But I think I lost my ride." I peer over his shoulder to see Drew draped against Luke as they lounge near the keg someone brought. His hands are sliding up and down her side's, their tongues no undoubtedly shoved down the others throat. My nose involuntarily wrinkled in disgust at their public demonstration of affection. "Ugh, that's nasty. And to think I actually thought he liked me."

I'll admit I felt a little put out at the fact that I was once again single. I was more infatuated by the thought that a boy could actually think of me as more then a friend then the actual person. And maybe in some twisted way I was trying to make Percy jealous. And it seemed to have worked.

"I hope you weren't too attached to Drew, she seems to have moved on." The comment is nasty, a feeble attempt at payback for the taunting he has put me through.

"Yeah well, Castellen can have her." Percy shrugs, stuffing his hands in the small pockets on the front of his jeans. The top half of his hands hang out in a position that can be anything but comfortable.

"We wouldn't want anyone to think you associated with sluts, now would we?" The comment hits home, I can tell from the way he cringes and ducks his head.

"I'm sorry 'bout making those comments. It was wrong of me. I should have trusted you." The weak apology is pitiful.

"If you think I'll forgive you just like that you're wrong. What you called me was not acceptable, and if you want me to trust you like that ever again you'll have to earn it. Because even though I've never lied to you, I'm allowed to keep my secrets. And now with you out of the picture I'm sure to have a whole lot more." Angry words seem to be the only thing I'm made out of this week, and this small jumble of them can be tacked on to the end of that list.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said what I did, and I should have trusted you. I was just..." Percy flounders for the right words, running his fingers through his shaggy hair. Shrugging helplessly seems to be the only solution he can come up with.

"Just what? Tell me Percy, what could you possibly say that would make up for what you called me?" I am glued to the slab of concrete with thin cracks resembling a spider's web.

"That's the problem. I _can't._ The only excuse I can think of is that I was jealous, which would be absurd because in order for me to be jealous there would have to be-"

"I know. Percy, _I know _you don't think of me that way. That's why I went out with Luke, because you don't think of me that way. Because all I'll ever be to you is a friend." Tears spring not my eyes, but I don't try to stop them from flowing down my face. I've bottled up these emotions for too long, and now it's all pouring out. Every damn thought I've had since that day on the beach is rushing out of my mouth. "That's the hardest part to come to terms with, that you'll never look at me the way I look at you. That you'll never crave me the way I desperately crave you! But let's be honest, Percy, if I were to by some miracle die tonight- if I were to be buried six feet under by this time next week, how much would you miss me? Because I can tell you for a fact, if the situation was reversed I would miss you a whole lot more then you could possibly miss me. But that's the sad truth, and I have to come to terms with it, don't I?" Percy stumbles to respond, choking on his own words. I slip back inside, leaving him gaping like a fish in the dark outdoors.

**~~~(Line Break)~~~**

I spend the rest of the party in a dim room, sipping on a bottle I found when rummaging through the pantry. The liquid is amber and burns my throat raw. I keep drinking. I'm sunk in a cushy arm chair facing a window that overlooks the neighbors front yard. Not the best of views, but it'll suffice. Anything more extravagant would have been cruel, considering what I just did.

Some days, I wish life had a rewind button. But if it did, everyone could just erase their screw ups, which are what make us who we are. Because once it's all said and done, when we are all wrinkled with age and have lived life, aren't we all just are a pile of screw ups set in flesh and blood? Just the living embodiment of our many, many mistakes? Because in thirty years, the number of mistakes I've made will have quadrupled. I may be lying in bed next to my beer bellied husband, the kids sound asleep down the hall or tossing and turning in a jail cell or living in a cramped apartment rank with the smell of lost dreams. Or I could be dead. The thing is, you never know which one of your screw ups are going to end with you being mourned by those still bearing theirs. But until then, I'm going to keep screwing up and then picking myself up, pausing only to give life the finger before carrying on.

So maybe life doesn't need a rewind button. Maybe we just need to be stronger, more resilient. After all, since when did the fight stop once the first punch was thrown?

**~~~(Line Break)~~~**

My head's pounding when I wake up, a deep throb taking over my entire skull. I moan, rolling over only to find myself tumbling into a musty carpet. I cough, every breath causing the pain in my head to intensify. Thin shafts of light peak through the half open shutters hanging from the window, the sky a gloomy grey. The carpet is a pale blue thick with dust, and the walls are lined with pictures curling from age.

I stumble to my feet, gently touching the photos of a young boy surrounded by others in a similar uniform. Soccer balls lay near them, and it takes a while for me to realize that this is a soccer team. Next to it, tacked on the wall is a picture with a boy dressed in jeans with am arm resting on a girl's shoulders, both blushing fiercely. A few inches away hangs a messy drawing, one that looks like it was done by a small child. Signed at the bottom in lopsided letters is the name Ethan, with a small note saying '_to the best big brother in the world'._

My breath lingers in my throat and suddenly breathing doesn't seem so important anymore. I had totally forgotten Ethan had an older brother, and I had totally forgotten he died ten years ago due to suicide.

Suddenly it all makes sense, why no one bothered me last night, why there is a thick layer of dust settled over every surface, why all the photos were thin with age. Because I had spent the night in a dead boys room, the very place he chose to end his life.

_***(flashback)***_

_We were just putting away our crayons from drawing our self portraits. I had broken the purple one, so Percy lent me his. I remember marveling at how sharp it was, how perfect the tip came together. I had asked him why it was so good, and he demonstrated by flashing me the hidden sharpener on the back of the box._

_While I was busy staring in awe I saw the principal come in, leading Ethan out of the classroom. I knew it was strange, but payed no attention __to it until I heard the loud cry of disbelief in his shrill voice._

_"What do you mean my brother's dead? He can't be, we were going to the park this weekend! He promised to push me on the swings!" Then the loud sound of crying, a tantrum was surely being thrown out in the hall. "No! No no no! I won't believe it! My brother is alive! I want to see him!" His voice was thick and I could picture the tears and mucus dribbling down his quivering chin._

_The low murmur of the adults consoling him and the gentle shushing from a woman overpower his desperate pleas, the noise getting gradually softer and softer as they lead him away._

_Later that day they make the announcement, Ethan's brother has been pronounced dead and Ethan will not be returning to school for the rest of the week. Our wails started almost immediately. All I can remember crying for was the fact that I knew that when someone dies you cry. And I was just doing what was expected of me, along with the rest of our class. This was the first in a long line of screw ups._

_***(flashback)***_

I haven't thought about Ethan's brother for years, the event folding into the dark corners of my mind, untouched. All the details are flooding back into my mind, how he hung himself after sending Ethan off to school, how he didn't leave a goodbye note. How it was his mother who found him when she hurried home after forgetting to grab her wallet. The rumor going around was that she went to close his door only to find her son hanging simply from a rope secured around his neck. I can only imagine the horror she felt when she realized what was happening.

A slow shiver crawls up my spine, and I quickly shuffle toward the door, opening it as quietly as I can. It's not quiet enough.

Ethan comes dashing down the hall in yesterday's clothes and bloodshot eyes, one shoe on while his other foot is covered with a dingy sock.

"Who are you? What are you still doing in my house?" He gaasps, squinting at me. Looking at his own hungover self, the steady throb returns to its rightful place at the base of my skull.

"I-I-I," I can't seem to think straight, everything is just too much to handle. I squeeze the doorknob for support, but this only draws his attention to the room I was just trespassing in. All the pain and confusion leaves his expression, replaced by stone cold fury.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out." He growls, flexing his fingers menacingly.

"I'm really sorry, it was dark and I had too much to drink and-" I drop the handle stepping backward slowly.

"I don't fucking care that you were wasted! I don't fucking care that it was dark or that you had a fight with your friends! I told you to get out so get the hell out of my fucking house!" He roars, drawing back a fist and swinging it at the door, causing its rusty hinges to snap back in protest.

I race away, my heartbeat in my throat as I dash down the stairs and out the front door. My tennis shoes slip and slide against the icy pavement, but I keep plowing on. The frozen air soothes my aching lungs which are begging for air. I cut a corner, my feet losing traction and flying out from beneath me.

I'm a jumble of limbs as I tumble down the ditch, my scream cut off sharply as I land. My wrist has white hot pain shooting through it, tears blurring my vision of the smeared clouds which are a faded grey. My jeans are soaked through with melted snow and the dirty snow I'm resting my head on is infiltrating my curls, dampening them.

_Aaron._

_Ethan's brother's name was Aaron._

It hits me hard, rendering me speechless and gasping for sir. Thin strands of tears track their way down my temples, pooling in my hair.

And suddenly I'm sobbing, although I can't tell if it's for me or Aaron or for the whole world. All I can tell is that there's no way to stop the tears.

**It's a bit short, I know, but a lot happens in this chapter. I'm really sorry for the wait, my school has forgotten the concept of having free time. Also, I won't be updating until after I have read the Blood of Olympus. And thank you thank you thank you for all the tens! I really appreciate them!  
**

**So how do you feel about the Aaron twist? Drunk Annabeth? Tell me in a review!**


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